Skag Girl
by child-dragon
Summary: Mordecai's beloved rifle is broken. In need of someone capable of fixing it, Mordecai is directed to find a wandering engineer with a curious nickname. But she has troubles of her own and views Mordecai as just the solution for them.
1. A Broken Rifle

_Author's Note: I'm still playing through Borderlands 2, and I find the setting is a bit too fast-paced for the story I want to write, so I'm setting this back in an indeterminate time, at some point prior to Hyperion making a mess of things. And yes, it is totally all about Mordecai, because I love Mordecai and am being terribly self-indulgent._

* * *

The radio was about the only thing that could be heard in the New Haven courtyard, rattling out tinny music punctuated by static. It sat in the driver's seat of a much-abused runner; the vehicle's paint smeared with dried ichor and coated with a fine layer of dust, two of the tires missing and half the metal paneling pried off one side to expose the internals. Two skinny legs protruded from underneath the vehicle, toes pointing to the sky. It was these that Mordecai was considering, standing just far enough that his own feet wouldn't be visible to the man underneath the runner. He jerked his head and the malformed bird on his shoulder was quick to interpret the gesture. Bloodwing fluttered down and seized one of Scooter's ankles and bit hard. An explosive burst of profanity was the result, and Bloodwing scattered back with an irritated screech as the pair of legs began thrashing in blind panic. There was a resounding thunk from underneath the runner and then Scooter went limp.

"Damn," Mordecai muttered, "Didn't mean for that to happen."

And the sniper stooped to haul the dazed and half-unconscious mechanic out from under the runner.

"The hell happened?" Scooter slurred, tentatively raising a hand to touch his brow. There was an ugly mark on the hairline that was already starting to turn an intriguing shade of purplish-red.

"I got a job for you," Mordecai replied.

"And you let me know by siccing your damn bird on me?"

Scooter tried to sit up and Mordecai watched impassively as the mechanic's eyes rolled back a touch and he decided it would be best if he just remained laying there on the ground. After a moment Mordecai leaned over and switched off the radio.

"I figured you'd have the presence of mind to realize you were underneath a runner and not try to leap to your feet."

"It bit me!" Scooter let out a breath. "Damn."

"Focus, Scooter. I have a job."

"It ain't' fixing up another one of _my_ runners that you busted the shit-hell out of, is it?"

In answer, Mordecai walked away to one of Scooter's worktables that sat under the canopy. He cleared off a space with one arm, sending tools and parts dancing perilously close to the edge. Behind him, Scooter painfully rolled to his feet. Bloodwing hissed at him as he did, Scooter hissed back and then limped over to where Mordecai was laying his rifle out on the table.

"Ah ain't a gun person," Scooter said warily, watching the sniper. Mordecai's hands rested over the barrel and stock of the gun possessively, as if he wasn't quite sure he wanted to relinquish it in any way, not even temporarily to the surface of Scooter's table. It was an unconscious gesture, but it was enough to make Scooter wary of approaching. This was Mordecai's gun – not just any gun, but his sniper rifle.

"I ain't taking it to Marcus," Mordecai replied, "And the scope is busted. Gotta get fixed somehow. It's... a good gun."

His voice was low. He could not put into words the trust he had in this piece of metal, the familiarity of its parts and the reassurance of its weight. He had been fighting off bandits and while it had not posed much of a threat one of the psychos had gotten in close and grappled with him. Seeing the grenade in the psycho's left hand, Mordecai had chosen to relinquish the gun rather than remain there when it went off. After he finished dispatching the rest of the bandits with his revolver, he went to reclaim the rifle, and found there was only murky black when he looked through the scope.

"It's beyond my abilities," Mordecai continued, "I was hoping you'd be able to fix it, or maybe send me to someone who can. Someone that isn't Marcus."

"What's wrong with Marcus? He just sell you a new scope or maybe just a new gun-"

He trailed off as Mordecai turned to look at him. The man's eyes were hidden away under the goggles, but there was a set to the jaw that warned him he had best be quiet now.

"-or maybe ah'll just be taking a look at this, right?" Scooter amended, "Might take some time. You come back in a few hours, kay?"

Mordecai nodded and stepped back silently. He turned to go, Bloodwing fluttering to his shoulder, leaving Scooter behind with the rifle.

* * *

Precisely two hours later, Mordecai returned. Scooter was back under the runner and this time, Mordecai drew his pistol and put a bullet through the shell of the radio. There was a yelp from Scooter, but the mechanic retained his presence of mind and scrambled out from underneath the vehicle before staggering to his feet.

"The hell was that for?!" he yelled, drawing out the 'ell' as he gestured at the radio with a wrench. Mordecai remained impassive and folded his arms while Scooter continued to carry on in indignation.

"My gun?" Mordecai finally said when Scooter's tirade wound down.

"Ah looked at it."

"And?"

"It done broke somethin' good. And I noticed here that the scope seems to have... melted... and fused with the gun just a bit. Drop a grenade on it or somethin?"

"Yes," Mordecai replied softly.

"I could cut the scope off, but it wouldn't be pretty, and ah'm not sure you'd be able to seat a new one back on. You needs an expert."

"I hope you know one?"

"Ah do."

There was a terse silence. Scooter glanced meaningfully at the broken radio, still spitting sparks, and then back at Mordecai. The man's scowl only deepened and Bloodwing even joined in on the glowering.

"It'll cost yah," Scooter said, holding his ground. After a moment, Mordecai reluctantly pulled out some money and started peeling bills off into Scooter's outstretched palm. Once there was enough to cover the radio – and then some – the mechanic's demeanor brightened considerably.

"Right then," he said, "There's this eng-in-eer on Pandora, see, and she might be able tah fix it for yah. Fixes everything round here, if you can find her."

"Where does she live?"

"Nowhere, that's the trouble. Travels all the time, checkin' the lines that carry electricity and water – think she's even got a hand in keeping ECHO running."

"So how do I find her? Blow up a relay tower and wait for her to show?"

There was a strain of irritation in Mordecai's voice now.

"Woah, no need for that. Just ask around, crack some bandit heads, they'll tell yah where she's at. Tell 'em you're looking for skag-girl."

"Skag-girl." Mordecai's tone was completely flat. He had never heard of such a person, but the nickname alone held the possibility for all sorts of interesting – and possibly terrible – connotations.

"Yeah. Skag-girl. And take that damn gun with yah, it's taken up too much space."

Mordecai complied. He felt crippled, like he only had half a gun. He knew he should be glad the thing functioned at all, that a broken – and slightly melted – scope was the worst of it, but there was a simmering resentment there nonetheless. His rifle was not working. It was a hateful weight on his back now, as if the gun had betrayed him. Or perhaps he had betrayed it, letting it go from his hands. If he'd just fought a bit harder, or perhaps been a bit quicker and pulled his sword, then perhaps he wouldn't have been forced to leave it behind when he ran for cover from the grenade.

Regardless, he had no desire to replace the weapon and it seemed his only option for the time was to find this engineer. With a nickname like that, surely someone around New Haven could point him in the right direction.


	2. Bandit Outpost

_Author's note: okay, I picked a time. Post Vault, pre Knoxx. I haven't played the additional content because I got introduced to this game rather late, so hopefully I won't botch canon._

* * *

As could be expected, there were a terrific amount of rumors and very few agreed with each other. There were the ones Mordecai somewhat expected: that she was horribly maimed by a skag and avoided civilization out of shame; that she was a master at surviving in the wilderness, to the point she could walk right through a skag den and have them not even notice; that she could not be contacted through ECHO and only showed when she wanted to be seen. There were some more creative ones that Mordecai could dismiss off-hand: that she could speak the language of skags, that she was a bandit queen, and even that she was a hybrid skag-human that was the result of some scientist's experimental cloning process. Other rumors circulated – tidbits about where she got her engineering knowledge, whispers of connections to bandits, and other distorted fragments that gave Mordecai only a vague notion on how to find her. In the end, he could only conclude a few things to be likely based off the handful of rumors that seemed most prevalent. She had a pet skag. She refused contact over ECHO from anyone she did not already know. She had some sort of arrangement with the bandits. It was Pierce who gave him the last bit, citing that as the reason she was not welcome in New Haven.

"I've no doubt she could do wonders for this city," Pierce said, watching Mordecai with her steely glare that carried a hint of a warning. She suspected he would bring trouble to her doorstep and her words were laden with disapproval at getting mixed up in this. "I've just gotten too many reports of people seeing her speaking with bandits to allow her anywhere near. She keeps her distance."

"Any particular group she seems to be affiliated with?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Try the southern part of the Dahl Headland, that's where the sightings are concentrated."

Mordecai grunted, the closest he'd get to thanks. He'd already left word with Lilith that he was leaving on this errand and wouldn't be available for a little while. She was dismissive, seemingly unconcerned, wrapped up in her private world as she had been since the opening of the Vault. Mordecai doubted she'd have the presence of mind to actually relay the message – assuming anyone else returned to New Haven to realize he'd gone. Roland was out most days now, keeping careful watch over the Crimson Lance. They seemed to be recovering from the loss of Steele, he said, and was concerned as to what that would mean for Pandora – and more importantly, for the four of them. Mordecai couldn't help but feel that his own concerns were so mundane – so petty – in comparison. Roland had not asked his help though, not yet, and so Mordecai figured he had no reason to feel guilt in simply packing up and leaving on a madman's quest.

There was little else to be done. He'd already fetched a replacement rifle for the time being, packed his broken one carefully behind the driver's seat, and made sure he had enough provisions to be out in the wilderness for an extended time. Anything else was just procrastinating.

Scooter was waiting at the exit of New Haven. Mordecai eased the runner up beside him.

"If you find skag-girl," the mechanic said, "tell her I want that stolen runner back."

Mordecai just laughed and gunned the engine. The rear tires of the runner fish-tailed at the acceleration, spitting up dust and sending a cloud cascading over Scooter's head. Mordecai peeled out of New Haven into the narrow trash-choked road, heading for Dahl Headland.

* * *

There was an outpost set along the edge of the flatlands, nestled in the crags in bits and pieces, half-hidden huts with sloping floors and precarious walkways spanning the dizzying heights between. Mordecai had seen it before in passing, but had never paid much attention, for it was irrelevant in his all-consuming need to find the Vault. He wondered at this, that he missed so much in their fevered journey across the surface of Pandora, and that he and the other three had passed by this outpost with hardly a thought for it. It was a strategic location with a good overview of most of the valley. While the distance would render most things indistinct, the dust plumes runners kicked up would be like beacons marking anyone passing through.

It was also held by bandits, of course. That seemed to be the eternal story around Pandora – save for a handful of settlements, anything of value was in the hands of bandits. Mordecai slung himself easily out of the runner, catching up his replacement rifle as he did so. The gun was warm in his hands from spending most the day close to his side, warmed by both the reflected light and the heat of his own body. He approached the outpost from the east side, staying close to the side of the ridge, scanning the surface with his eyes for any easy approach. It seemed that the bandits had done the same – and then demolished any pathway they found. Mordecai knelt and brought the rifle up to his shoulder. It was a Maliwan, the blue paint dulled by grit, and he found that he regretted the loss of his favorite rifle just by looking through the woefully inadequate scope. The bandits along the walkways of the outpost were distinct only in generalities – he could place their limbs, the round bob of their heads, and no more. He supposed Maliwan didn't bother with pin-point accuracy with their scopes because their bullets didn't necessarily need to land between the eyes to kill a target. He had to admit their arrogance, while annoying, was somewhat well-placed. The Maliwan rifle had come in handy more than once when he was simply too hard-pressed to take his time.

Mordecai hissed in frustration as his sight fell across what he feared to see – a lift. Apparently the outpost had survived for so long because the only approach was by the whim of the bandits themselves. It would take a bombardment to fully oust them, and this was something beyond his capabilities. He would have to take a different approach. Gathering himself up, Mordecai darted forwards, eyes darting paces ahead, looking for the next spot of cover. He did not want to be seen before he was ready. He grew closer, bit by bit, sprinting a pace and then collapsing behind an outcropping or a boulder that had broken off of the ridge to land on the valley floor below. He'd wait in the shadow of his shelter, waiting to hear if the alarm had been raised, and if not he would dart to the next piece of cover. When he was satisfied, he levered himself to the ground, spreading his knees wide and tucking his feet back under him. He preferred to brace the gun against the ground if given enough time, but the angle was all wrong here. He'd just have to hold it. Sighing, he rested the stock against his shoulder and let the scope fall into place, his spine arched and his fingers flicking across it to adjust the distance. There appeared to be two bandits on watch, at opposite ends of the outpost. The rest were taking their leisure, a small knot playing cards, another cleaning a gun in the shelter of a hut, the door pulled back to let in the scarce breeze. One appeared to be – reading? Mordecai imagined it was one of those magazines that was all pictures; he just couldn't imagine a bandit taking an interest in fine literature. This one was also the best positioned, sitting on a low walkway at the edge, dangling his feet over the gap. Mordecai aimed, setting the sight just across the man's right shoulder. He exhaled, slowly, and when his lungs were empty and the gun steadied in his hands, he fired.

The bullet went right where he had placed it. The metal sliced through the bandit's thick jacket, through a layer of skin and rippled a thin line through the muscle before continuing on to slam into the rock wall behind, exploding in a maelstrom of electricity. The bandit convulsed and pitched forwards, falling from the walkway. There was a second's worth of pause and then the outpost erupted into gunfire. It was wild, the bandits searching for a target, any target, and Mordecai tossed his rifle aside and sprinted across the open space to where the bandit had fallen. The man was on his back, crying out in pain, hands searching for a weapon that his mind just couldn't reconcile the location of. Mordecai helped him along by pulling it off his waist and tossing it far out of reach.

"You're with me," the sniper growled and grabbed hold of the man's arms. The gunfire became targeted now and bullets danced off the surface of his shield. Despite knowing the shield held firm, Mordecai flinched involuntarily. Then he started to backtrack, hastily, dragging the bandit along with him.

His shield had only a quarter remaining, the warning flashing in the lower left of his vision on the surface of his goggles by the time he got the two of them behind cover. The captured bandit was mostly insensate. Something had to be broken from the fall. A glancing shot from a gun wasn't enough to make someone nearly faint. Mordecai risked a glance at the outpost. There were three making to come down in the lift after him. Mordecai caught up his rifle and sent a handful of shots their way to convince them otherwise. One fell dead, the other two scattered for cover and a hail of bullets pinged off the boulder.

"C'mon, wake up," Mordecai growled, giving the bandit a heavy back-hand slap. After a moment the man groaned and his eyes fluttered open. Mordecai put a pistol to his head, the barrel tight against the temple.

"I'm Mordecai," he said, watching as a sharp jerk seized the man's muscles at the name, "Good, you've heard of me. Now, I'm looking for someone. I couldn't help but notice what a nice overview your outpost has of the Headlands, and thought you might be able to help. What do you think?"

"We're going to string you up and let the rakk pull your eyes out," the bandit growled in response.

"Funny, I was just thinking I'd let Bloodwing do the same."

Of course, he'd left the bird behind to guard the runner, but the man didn't need to know that yet.

"Come to think of it," Mordecai continued, "I could probably just kill everyone in this outpost and take it over for myself. Or perhaps I'll just cripple your friends instead, then stake the survivors out in the open and take pot-shots at the skags when they come to feast on your still-living bodies. Hands are a harder target than heads, you know, might be a good challenge to maim instead of kill."

He reached for his rifle with his free hand. The bandit's eyes involuntarily tracked the movement.

"Who are you looking for?" his captive asked as Mordecai's fingers closed around the gun.

"Glad you asked! A woman. Engineer. Nicknamed skag-girl."

The bandit did not reply. He remained completely still and Mordecai realized that the gunshots in his direction were growing a bit more focused. They'd braved the lift then, while he was sitting here talking. Mordecai sighed, removed the gun from the man's forehead.

"Hang on, I need to kill your friends," he said, turning to peer around the boulder, "Should I aim for the legs or just make it fast?"

"I know skag-girl. She won't meet with you willingly. You'll have to trick her into it."

"How?"

"We can contact her, ask her to come by in twelve hours. She'll leave her runner behind a distance and you can cut her off from it. It'll be up to you from there."

Mordecai could hear voices and the sound of feet running his way. He was out of time.

"Do it," he growled, "I'll be watching and any sign of treachery will get all of you killed. Hell, I might just kill you all anyway. Haven't decided yet."

He slung the rifle over his shoulder and pushed off to his feet, using the man's knee as leverage. There was a crunch of bone and the bandit screamed and then fell silent, head lolling insensate. Mordecai ducked out from cover, firing off a burst from the pistol and temporarily driving the two bandits that were approaching for cover. Then he turned and ran, back towards where the runner was waiting. Mordecai was pleased to see that the bandits did not pursue. They feared him, then. Hopefully it would be enough.


	3. Meeting Skag Girl

_Author's Note: This is the chapter I finally remembered that Mordecai is colorblind. I also always have a bit of trepidation when I bring in an OC, as I don't want the OC to overwhelm the story or overshadow the canon characters. It's just... I giggled too much while thinking up this story to not write it._

Setting an ambush simply to talk to someone, while a bit extreme, was certainly not out of character for Pandora. Mordecai arrived at the site early – twelve hours would put Pandora in the night cycle and Mordecai wanted to be situated before that. He settled in during the long dusk, picking a spot on the valley floor where he would be sheltered from sight and the elements. He had pulled his full sniping kit from the runner – around his shoulders was a camouflaged mantle, complete with hood, woven with a springy thread that felt somewhat metallic and would shift colors to blend in with the surroundings. Mordecai saw the subtle adjustments only as variations in depth. The mantle had been expensive, as hardly anyone on Pandora had any appreciation for the art of laying in wait and so the demand for things of this nature was low enough to turn them into specialty items. Marcus gouged even more than usual on specialty items. Mordecai had also brought a more sophisticated tripod for the Maliwan, so that he could mount it and leave it there in position without having to constantly stabilize it. He aimed it at the bandit camp and set the lock to hold it there until he needed it. That done, he settled himself in, back against a rock, mantle arranged to hide himself, and binoculars in his lap. He did not consider himself a patient man, but there was something about sniping that changed all of that. There was a touch of dissatisfaction knowing that he most likely wouldn't be shooting anyone and this was all merely precaution, but he was able to put that thought from his mind and take comfort in the familiarity of his gun and surrounding situation.

The bandit outpost remained docile, for the most part. There were some fights, presumably over their current situation, but those were self-contained and seemed more an outlet of aggression than anything else. The bandit Mordecai had shot and taken captive died an hour before skag-girl was due to arrive. Mordecai watched this through the binoculars, able to see everything clearly in the glow of the hut the man was in. The bandits had a novice doctor, an amateur, and after clearly being unable to set the shattered knee right, he opted for amputation of the leg. Mordecai watched the man bleed to death, despite the medics attempts to quell the flow of blood. He wondered how this would affect his meeting with skag-girl, if it would do anything at all.

By the time Mordecai heard the thrum of a runner's engine, the camp had gone still. Lights were dwindling and now he could see only pinpoints, the specks of lit cigarettes in the growing night. The bandit outpost was devoid of activity and seemed content to leave skag-girl to her fate, whatever it might be. They would not intervene. Satisfied, Mordecai folded up the tripod and clipped it to his belt, then remained crouched there with the rifle in his hands, ready to move. The runner tore past him, spinning into a sharp turn that ate up the rest of its momentum and brought it to a rocking halt. The runner's turret was missing a gun and instead appeared to have been converted into storage with metal bins welded to to the rail and a tarp fastened down over the top of it. Mordecai peered through the rifle's scope at the driver. She was unclipping herself from the harness, her shoulder turned to him. He saw a stained bandanna around her neck and another tied around her head, shielding hair that hung cropped carelessly at the bottom of her ears. Her goggles were pushed up onto her forehead. Then she climbed free, turning her body towards him, and Mordecai got his first good look at skag-girl.

She was not a mutant half-human-half-skag hybrid. Nor was she horribly maimed, although Mordecai could see a number of scars along the parts of her arms that were exposed. She was actually rather small and harmless-seeming. Couldn't be very far into her early twenties. Mordecai estimated that she'd be eye-level to his shoulders. She was skinny and not in the way Mordecai was, all wire and steel muscles, rather, she had the look of someone that was accustomed to hunger as a way of life. Her vest was cinched tight and Mordecai could see the jutting of her hipbones against the line of her waist – it was not what he would call curvacious. She was all sharp joins, bones stark, and she moved like a hunted animal – wary, eyes darting across the landscape. She gave no indication she had seen Mordecai and instead pulled an assault rifle out of the runner and slung the strap crosswise across her body. It seemed far too large for her.

There was a rustle of the tarp at the top of the runner's turret. Mordecai watched through the scope as a large creature crawled out from under it, making it to the ground in a single bound. A skag. A fully grown skag. The creature trotted over to skag-girl as Mordecai watched with his breath caught in his throat. It could rest the bottom of its head on her shoulder, if it wanted. She reached up, hooked her hands around a heavy collar – adorned with a bow that Mordecai had to imagine was pink – and pulled herself up onto the creature's back. The skag started off at an easy pace towards the bandit outpost.

"Well, I'll be damned," Mordecai breathed.

This complicated matters. Still, he felt confident he could take on both the skag and the woman. She did not have confidence in her walk and even though assault rifles were not Mordecai's forte, he had been around Roland long enough to note that she held it like an amateur. Mordecai waited until she had made good distance from the runner before standing and silently making his way to stand between girl and vehicle. Then he set his stance, raised the rifle, and fired a bullet well over her head.

The skag whipped around with a screech, its face splitting open to bare its maw. Skag-girl clutched at the collar at the motion, sliding to one side and clinging to the beast with her knees to stay put, her assault rifle hanging useless at her side. The skag took a step forwards, dropping its head into the low-slung stance they took when hunting, and skag-girl leaned back, the collar in both hands, shouting something that Mordecai couldn't quite make out. The skag relaxed and brought its head back up. It would not attack yet. At a gentle urge, it walked closer, skag-girl sitting up perfectly straight on its back. She stopped an easy distance away, placing him well within range if the skag decided to leap at him. Mordecai did not protest this. Let the beast jump. He'd put a bullet into the brain before it hit him.

"You a merc?" she asked, peering at him in the darkness.

"I am."

"Someone finally put a bounty on me?"

"No."

She settled back on the skag's back, seemingly both surprised and relieved by this news.

"So – who are you and why are you here?"  
"I'm Mordecai. I've got a job for you."

She made a soft sound. Looked away at the surrounding wilderness, staring off into the distance for a long pause. Her face remained composed and finally she ducked her head down, muttering something at the skag, and then she slipped off its back. The creature brushed past her, leaning into her as it walked and sending her staggering, then marched right past Mordecai. It turned its head to glare at him with one beady eye as it moved past. Bloodwing hissed from his shoulder, and then the skag was past them and climbing back into its perch in the runner turret.

"You've got plenty of resources," she said, still not looking back at him, "Whatever you need, you can get it elsewhere."

"Maybe not. My rifle's scope is broken – a grenade went off on it, literally, right on top of it – and I need someone capable of fixing it."

"I can't do something that delicate."

"Somehow, I don't believe that." Mordecai dropped his voice low, soft and deadly. She heard the threat hidden behind his words and jerked her head a bit, still avoiding his gaze. "Are you too afraid of me?"

"Maybe." Her voice was terse. "The stories of you four are already becoming legend out here. I've heard what they say about you – they say you emptied an entire camp of bandits, picking them off one at a time, for the entire length of a day cycle until the terror of it drove the last few insane, turning them into gibbering shells, waiting for the sniper's bullet, begging for it. The stories about the other three are even worse. They say Lilith can skin a man alive with just a touch of her hand."

"That one isn't true." He paused, considering. "Yet."

"And the other?"

"Maybe. What's stopping you from fixing my rifle?"

She shifted her weight to the other foot nervously. Then she raised her head and looked Mordecai straight-on. She looked even younger close up and Mordecai wondered how she managed to survive out here like this. There was a pistol on her waist, a shield on the same belt near the small of her back, and her loose cargo pants appeared to have small tool kits stuffed in the pockets. Her forearms were wrapped with strips of old cloth from the elbow down, her hands covered with threadbare gloves. The biceps were bare and Mordecai could see the white lines of scars crisscrossing the exposed skin. There were no scars anywhere near her neck or face, however, leaving Mordecai to wonder how she'd come by them, that they were so specific to one area.

"I've got an agreement with the bandits. They hold a lot of the critical junctures out here for the electrical grid and waterlines and without their good will, I can't get access."

"Good will from bandits?" Mordecai laughed softly and the girl scowled.

"Even bandits need clean water. The ones that recognize that let me pass by unharmed. The ones that don't, I avoid, and wait for them to die out from disease and hope whoever moves in next will be more foresighted. If I fix your scope, that good will just might vanish."

"Then let's not talk within eye-shot of the bandit outpost. You got room in that turret with that skag?"

"Ye-es?"

"Give me your guns and get in. I'm driving us elsewhere."

She hesitated. Mordecai shifted the rifle meaningfully, putting the stock against his shoulder and slipping his finger around the trigger. Skag-girl swore and grabbed the strap of her assault rifle, pulling it off her shoulder and fairly throwing the weapon to the ground. Her pistol followed and then she stood there, unarmed, glaring at him as he crept forwards and carefully retrieved both weapons. Her shoulders were back and there was an almost feral look in her eyes.

"Let's go," he said, gesturing for her to start walking. She complied, not looking back, and clambered up the side of the runner and unclipping the tarp to roll it back some. The skag poked its head up, resting its paws on the rail and she slipped in beside it, seemingly accustomed to this arrangement. Mordecai suddenly realized that must be where she slept at night, as she didn't seem to have any other shelter.

Shaking his head, Mordecai climbed into the driver's seat, tossing both assault rifle and pistol back behind the chair. There was a rifle back there already, clipped to the metal just over where her head would sit, and Mordecai examined it for a moment. A Dahl gun, seemingly unimpressive, and poorly kept. He shook his head and turned to buckle himself in. He'd left his own runner a good distance away in what appeared to be an isolated and untraveled parcel of land. They could talk there and hopefully Mordecai could figure out what it'd take to convince her to help. At least this revelation explained why she was not welcome at New Haven – or why she wouldn't be welcome much of anywhere that wasn't bandit territory on Pandora. He wondered how she fell into this predicament to begin with.

Skag-girl was resentfully silent when Mordecai finally pulled up beside his own runner and killed the engine. She climbed down, hissing at her skag when it attempted to follow, and stood there rubbing her arms absently against the cold.

"Who provisions you?" Mordecai asked as he made for where his broken rifle was stashed.

"The bandits. When something breaks inside their camps, they'll call on me and pay in supplies."

"They don't pay very well. You're skinnier than I am."

"No, they give me enough. I just give most of the food to Bunny when I can't shoot enough to keep him completely full, which is most of the time. He's easier to control when he's overfed."

"Bunny. Like the animal?"

"No, like a centerfold."

Not quite the most bewildering thing he'd heard. Mordecai lifted his beloved rifle free of the runner and held it out. Skag-girl approached warily, like a skittish animal, and Mordecai forced himself to remain still so as not to spook her. Sure, it might be hilarious to raise his hand towards the hilt of his sword right now, just to watch her scatter, but that wouldn't get him any closer to having a working rifle. Finally, she was close enough to reach out and touch it, and once he was convinced she was intrigued in the gun he carefully forced it into her hands. She held it for a moment, just staring, then sank to the ground cross-legged and laid it across her lap. Delicate fingers danced lightly over the surface of the melted scope.

"Why go through all the trouble for a gun?" she asked.

"You hear the stories of what happened at the Vault?"

"They're starting to surface. I'm not sure what to believe."

Mordecai stared off at the night sky.

"There was no treasure. Just... annihilation, which the four of us fought back against. We won."

He waited. She could finish the rest of the story here on her own. He could see her in the corner of his eye and noticed that her movements grew even more careful as she inspected the damage to the gun, as if it was a holy relic she held in her lap. She understood, then.

"This is an Atlas gun," she said, "The scope is... you won't be able to find a replacement anytime soon, that's for certain. They don't ship stuff like this to Pandora unless it's going directly into the hands of the Crimson Lance."

He didn't feel like telling her that was exactly where he got it. The soldier had almost killed Brick with the gun before they realized where his sniping perch was located. It was an impossibly long shot to make for someone that wasn't Mordecai. Once the man was dead – Mordecai's Maliwan punching through the soldier's shield and a follow-up bullet scattering blood and brain matter to the winds – he trekked across the open space and climbed the tower to retrieve the gun. When he looked through the scope, he understood how the soldier had been able to shoot so accurately, and decided that the gun would be his new favorite.

"Thankfully, these things are also built to be durable," she continued, "There's two casings to the scope – the one here, attaches to the gun, and it's expendable. It'll absorb any damage, like the heat of a grenade, and can be discarded and replaced with another casing. The second casing is the core of the scope and it houses all the electricals. I bet there's a hairline fracture in that casing and that allowed some of the heat to get through and melt some of the circuitry. I'll have to get some specialized tools, but I think I can fix it."

"What do you need to do for the tools?"

Specialized meant expensive. Mordecai felt his heart sink a bit. This was already looking to be a long ordeal.

"My dad has them. But the Crimson Lance have been far more active than usual – if I'm going to risk getting in and back out of Sanctuary again, not to mention losing the favor of the bandits, I want one hell of a favor in return."

That caught Mordecai's' attention. First, there was the matter of Sanctuary. If he understood correctly from Roland, she'd be risking her freedom by going into Sanctuary. Possibly her life, if her reputation was known inside the city walls. The Crimson Lance had about as much tolerance for bandit connections as Pierce did, and Mordecai suspected they'd be far quicker to pull the trigger than anyone in New Haven would. Secondly, there was also the small matter of the word 'again' – she had done this before. Roland would want to know how. Thirdly, there was the matter of a favor. He steeled himself and turned his full attention back on her.

"What's the favor?" he asked.

"The Crimson Lance have shut down power to one of the sectors. It's mostly inhabited by bandits, but there's a few farmsteads out there now without power – which has also brought down the relay towers and the pumps. So no water and ECHO connections are spotty in that general area. I'm not sure if it was intentional or not as they're building up a small outpost in that area and they could have accidentally hit a line during construction and haven't bothered to fix it. They're not on the same grid as everyone else, their outposts have their own generators, so if they fuck up everyone but them suffers. I need to get in, get that line fixed, and then get out."

Mordecai could tell already that this was not going to be a job for just one sniper. He could not empty an entire outpost on his own, especially not with the Crimson Lance building up their forces on Pandora right now. He couldn't hold ground either. He was no Brick or Roland who could dig in and keep the enemy at bay. He was more kin to Lilith, flitting here and there, dealing in misdirection and redirection, changing the rules of the game each time the enemy threatened to gain an advantage. This was not a style that lent itself to holding a piece of ground for a length of time.

"I'll have to check with the others," Mordecai sighed, "I'll ECHO them, explain the situation and see if they'll help."

His hopes weren't exactly high. Lilith was hardly the sentimental type and would tell him to just get a new rifle. Brick was probably secretly pleased the gun had finally broken, as he remembered all too well being left bleeding in the dirt by it. And Roland... well, he had a chance with Roland. He'd start there and hope the other two would follow his lead. Lilith would. Mordecai often wondered at that, how the sharpness of her personality seemed to vanish whenever Roland spoke. He found he resented Roland for it. Brick...

Mordecai suddenly smiled, a thin, mirthless gesture of a grim sense of humor. He knew how to rope Brick in. The sniper strode away from skag-girl to give himself some privacy when he contacted the three. Suddenly, he paused, a thought occurring to him. He turned. Skag-girl was putting the rifle back in the back of his runner.

"Hey," he called at her, "What the hell is your real name, anyway?"

She started. Stood there for a moment, her back to him.

"Tasha," she called back.

"Right," he said to himself, and continued walking before bringing up his ECHO and finding Brick on the list.

"Hey," Mordecai said, as soon as the confirmation of a connection flashed on his HUD, "Got someone you need to meet. Girl named Tasha – she's got a full-grown pet skag following her around like a dog."


	4. Liability

_Author's Note: I took a tiny break from writing on this to get a bit further in Borderlands 2, as I feared I was totally botching Mordecai's personality. Well, I finally got to the Tiny Tina mission and found out that yes, my assessment of Mordecai as a smug asshole was pretty much correct. I'm also pleased to see that traumatizing young children is a Borderlands tradition._

* * *

As expected, Roland was interested simply because of the Crimson Lance's involvement, which also secured Lilith's help. And Brick was intrigued by Bunny enough to at least listen to Mordecai's pitch. That and a promise of beer on Mordecai was enough to bring the full crew in. Roland estimated they could be there by dawn and instructed Mordecai to stay put. They'd figure out a strategy for assaulting the Crimson Lance base once the five of them were gathered in one place. Mordecai relayed this to Tasha, who seemed a bit intimidated by the thought of having all four Vault hunters along. It was clear she had only been expecting Mordecai's help.

"And you're doing this before I fix your scope?" she asked when Mordecai had explained the working plan.

"I'd prefer it the other way around, but Roland wants to meet with you before you go sneaking off into Sanctuary. He might have something else for you to do while you're in there."

"I'm no spy."

"We're assaulting a Crimson Lance base for you. You'll damn well do whatever Roland asks."

"And if I just vanish instead?" There was a challenge in her voice. Mordecai turned to regard her, knowing full well how intimidating his stare could be. With his eyes hidden behind the goggles and most of his features behind the mask, it meant the recipient could only infer what his intent was and if he kept his voice low, they typically inferred the worst.

"Then I'll go through every bandit camp I find until they give you up. And what I do with you will make the stories of me that already exist sound like lullabies."

Part of him wondered if he could actually follow-through with that threat. He was fairly certain he could, and wondered if this was Pandora's affect on him, or if he had always been this way and Pandora had simply given him the freedom to act. Tasha was trying not to look at him again, instead moving to sit next to Bunny, who was laying in the dirt between the two runners. Mordecai watched the two for a long while, thinking about what she had said regarding feeding the skag most her food and the much-abused rifle that was in her runner. He made his way over to it, took it off its hooks, and returned to where Tasha sat.

"C'mon," he told her, "We've got a lot of waiting until the other three get here. I want to see you shoot this."

As Mordecai suspected, Tasha was a miserable shot. She either focused entirely on the target or entirely on the gun and did not seem able to reconcile the two in tandem. She did take time to think the shot through, but at the moment she fired it seemed she simply forgot everything and winged it – which resulted in most of her bullets going wild. Worse still, Mordecai could point out a dozen bad habits and her attempts at correcting them appeared futile, which made Mordecai fear they'd been there for a very long time.

"Where did you learn to shoot?" he finally asked as she reloaded the gun for a third time. He'd given up on trying to show her how to reload faster, figuring he'd be lucky if she actually hit anything better than a glancing blow that night.

"Bandits taught me. I was pretty little. They'd bring back captives from their raids on other bandits, tie them up against a post, and let me take shots at them. They all thought it was funny, so I thought it was pretty funny too, and was always sad when I finally killed them because that meant they'd take the gun back and I couldn't play with it anymore."

"You were raised by bandits." This explained so much.

"Yeah. I'm a native to Pandora. I think my parents were Dahl engineers sent here... not really too certain, as my mother went crazy and ran off with me when I was too little to remember anything. Bandits took her in and I wound up being something of a mascot."

She'd finished reloading. She settled the gun's stock against her arm, too low to really gain any sort of stabilization from her body, and Mordecai reached out and took the barrel in his hand and readjusted it yet again. This time he closed his hand over the gun's scope and kept it there so she wouldn't try and drop the gun off her shoulder when she fired. He was tired of watching her fuck it up.

"How old are you, anyway?" he asked. She couldn't sight using the scope with his hand there, but Mordecai figured it would be better that she focus on the basics anyway. He watched to see where her eyes went, whether they focused on the target or the barrel of the gun first.

"I have no idea. The bandits didn't keep track of birthdays unless they had an idea. Lars – that's the guy that leads this particular gang – held a 'I think you're twelve' birthday party and gave me Bunny. I told him it was a nice gift, but I'd rather have an incendiary shotgun like he had."

"Every little girl needs an incendiary shotgun," Mordecai agreed. She fired and the gun rocked under Mordecai's hand. The recoil was slight but Tasha still let it throw her off. The sniper sighed deeply in frustration, wondering if this was just an exercise in futility and just why he was even bothering. He never felt compelled to correct his three companions unless they specifically asked for advice, but they also tended to stick to what they were best at and left the sniping to him. Tasha though, seemed to rely on the rifle for some things and besides, he had plenty of time to kill. He didn't particularly feel like sleeping either, not with a girl raised by bandits with a pet skag nearby. As relatively helpless as she seemed, he still had to keep in mind that she'd been raised by people that would have no qualms about murdering someone in their sleep.

"Here," he said, shifting to his feet in a crouch to move behind her, "I'll guide you."

At least she seemed to be past flinching every time he moved. Mordecai couldn't decide if it was just him or if perhaps she was just terrified of strangers by habit. There was no telling how many layers of trauma were there from being raised by bandits, having a psycho mother, and simply living on Pandora. Mordecai didn't particularly care to indulge any of them, either. He reached around and took one wrist in hand, gently applying pressure to guide her arm to a more stable position. She resisted and so he applied more until she relinquished and allowed him to set the gun right, peering over her shoulder to ensure the angle was correct. Then he settled her hand firmly on the body of the gun, his own covering it to hold it there and keep it steady, and he reached around the other side of her body to catch up her other hand and guide it to the trigger.

"Now look down the length of the gun," he directed, "See it in relation to the target."

They were shooting at a spare bandanna he'd tacked to a rock. It hadn't been hit yet.

"No, don't fire yet," he said, irritated, seizing her wrist to jerk her hand away from the trigger, "Wait until I tell you."

He waited, listening to her breath, feeling the inhale and exhale from the closeness of his body to her back. When she finished her exhale and her small frame went momentarily still, he calmly gave the order to fire. There was a spark from where the bullet hit the rock and the bandanna fluttered. Mordecai got up, walking the distance between her and the target, and inspected the piece of cloth. There was a hole. She'd finally hit it. He turned to see her just kneeling there, the rifle across her knees.

"Alright," he said, walking back, "Now try that again, on your own this time."

And she raised the gun and forget everything he'd just shown her and missed by a mile. Mordecai sucked in his breath and held it, trying to force some sort of calm into his mind. Exhaled, and failed.

"You're fucking hopeless. I give up."

The look Tasha gave him made him think it was probably a good thing she never got that incendiary shotgun she wanted.

* * *

Mordecai perched himself up on the runner, just behind the turret, and waited there for the arrival of the other three. Tasha continued to practice and while Mordecai could tell she was truly trying to retain some of what he'd shown her, it was simply too exasperating to actually watch. He stared at Bunny instead and found that was as boring as Tasha was frustrating. The skag seemed content to sleep through the night. Finally, Tasha either ran out of ammo or gave up and returned to the two parked runners. She settled down next to Bunny, leaning back against the skag's side.

"So what happens if he ever turns on you?" Mordecai called down. It seemed like it'd be important to know.

"I scrapped down a Maliwan pistol a while ago and re-purposed the unit that generated the electric charge into the collar," she replied, "Push of a button and he gets jolted with enough electricity to hopefully drop him."

"Where did you learn all this?"

"My mother. She was either a mechanical or electrical engineer – not sure which – and would fix everything around camp and I followed her and watched. Started tinkering with stuff myself eventually and the bandits soon had me cleaning and servicing all their guns for them because they were lazy bastards. I think that's why Lars kept both me and my mother around – that and my mother was crazy enough to rip someone's face off. With her bare hands. And then eat it."

"She still with the bandits?"

There was a long pause and for a moment Mordecai thought the girl wouldn't answer.

"No," she finally said, "She died. That's when I left the bandit camp and went to find my father. He went crazy too, though in a much quieter way, and lives in Sanctuary now. He's a software engineer and they let him work on stuff still. He thinks we both died and I can't convince him otherwise. Looks right through me when I tell him I'm his daughter, like I don't exist in that moment. The rest of the time I'm just some nice girl that wandered in off the street and he tells me all sorts of stuff about how the programs that run Pandora's machines work. I didn't want to stay in Sanctuary because they don't let skags in, so I just left him there."

Apparently insanity ran in the family, then. Mordecai figured he didn't want to know anything else about this girl, as her story just seemed to be growing progressively more depressing. It was little wonder she wasn't welcome anywhere – having a family of bandits certainly didn't engender trust and even if Pierce were willing to welcome her if she renounced all that, Tasha didn't seem particularly inclined to do so. Not if she still had contact with them like this. Mordecai realized bleakly that he was going to catch so much crap from Lilith for getting involved in this.

* * *

Tasha fell asleep sometime before dawn. As did Mordecai, although he at least managed to stay awake long enough to ensure that the girl was truly not going to get up and murder him anytime soon. He slept lightly as a rule anyway, and woke as soon as the engine of the approaching runner became a distant whisper. His reaction was instinct – his hand closed on his rifle and he rolled to the far side of the runner, putting the vehicle's mass between him and the incoming sound. There was little doubt it would be Lilith, Roland, and Brick; but Mordecai had learned not to take chances. On the other side of the runner, both Tasha and Bunny were waking up. Mordecai was glad to see that she at least had some instincts, even if she couldn't hit the broad side of a mountain with a gun, and ducked behind her own runner to ensure she had cover if the approaching runner turned out to be hostile. Bunny just stood out in the open, splitting its maw open and snarling at the plume of dust that was growing steadily closer.

"Tasha!" Mordecai called out, "Your dog is stupid!"

"I know!" she called back.

Mordecai raised his gun and peered down the scope. He saw Lilith crammed in the front of the turret, clearly pleased by the fact that Roland had elected to share the confined space with her and let Brick drive instead. Scooter's generosity only extended to the use of two runners at a time for the four of them and so when one of them took off on their own, it meant the other three were slightly screwed in means of transportation. Mordecai might have some apologies to make – actually, he'd probably have a lot of apologies to make considering what he was dragging them into. He decided to just forgo the entire thing and resort to angry glares if anyone demanded one. It was what they'd come to expect from him, after all.

The sniper clambered out from behind the runner and waved in greeting as the incoming vehicle slowed to an easy stop. Brick was being nice and not flinging his passengers around. Mordecai would have, were he actually allowed to drive once in a while. Lilith took her time climbing out, somehow managing to justify using Roland's shoulder as a temporary perch as she scooted over the railing. Then she dropped down and Roland followed after. Brick was levering himself carefully out of the driver's seat and his eyes settled on Bunny. Tasha was edging closer, wary, and Mordecai saw that she had her assault rife in her hands and didn't seem ready to relax and let go of it just yet. That look of a hunted animal was back.

"So," Mordecai said, turning halfway between the two parties, "Everyone: the crazy girl is Tasha and the skag is Bunny. Tasha: the scary bitch is Lilith, the guy with the stupid hat is Roland, and the big guy is Brick. He's a softie, loves puppies, no reason to be scared of him."

That introduction earned him a series of even stares from his companions. Lilith seemed unperturbed by the title of 'scary bitch' and Mordecai wasn't sure if it was because she agreed or if she was plotting his demise for later. Roland was critically eying Mordecai's own choice of headgear and seemed to be considering if it was worth making a retaliating remark. And Brick... well, Mordecai couldn't tell what Brick thought because Brick usually looked like he had barely restrained murder in his eyes.

"Also," Mordecai said, "Tasha was raised by bandits."

There was a long pause. Tasha looked ready to bolt in earnest now and Mordecai could see she was mentally measuring the distance between herself and the driver's seat to her runner. Roland saw it as well, for he shrugged and looked away as if the information meant nothing to him. Tasha's attention focused in on Brick, who was certainly the most intimidating of the four and would appear to be the greatest threat. Roland was slowly easing himself between Tasha and the runner and the girl didn't appear to notice. Her eyes darted over to Mordecai and he gave her a reassuring smile. At least, he hoped she'd interpret it that way.

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'raised'," Tasha said nervously, "More like... was the camp's mascot. Or resident running joke. I don't know."

"I can work with this," Lilith said with a shrug, "You scouted out the outpost we're going to attack yet?"

For a moment Tasha looked relieved and she turned her attention to Lilith, edging closer. Her hands fell from the assault rifle, then edged back up, and then she forcibly removed them and pressed the palms against her legs to keep them still. Lilith just jerked her head, indicating that Tasha should follow her.

"I've got a map," Lilith said, "I want you to outline the entire place."

The two moved off to one side, dropping into a crouch opposite each other and talking in a low voice. Lilith was laying out the four points to a hologram projector and a relief of the Dahl Headland flashed up between the two. Tasha hovered a hand over it for a moment and then flipped her fingers over the surface, scrolling the contours of the hills, searching for the general location of the outpost.

"Mordecai," Roland said, coming up beside the sniper, "Walk with me?"

The two moved off into the growing dawn. The false sun of Pandora was a shimmer on the horizon, struggling weakly to make itself known. Roland seemed reluctant to talk and while Mordecai didn't particularly feel inclined to start the conversation, he felt a bit obliged to considering it was at his request that Roland was even here.

"I gotta get that rifle fixed," Mordecai said. It would suffice as an explanation.

"It's your Atlas one, isn't it?" the former soldier rumbled.

"The one I used against the Destroyer."

"I get it."

The two were silent for a moment. Roland abruptly stopped walking and turned to face Mordecai with a sigh. The sniper looked back off towards the camp. Lilith and Tasha were still talking and Brick was trying to entice Bunny into a game of fetch. Mordecai figured the man wouldn't have any luck unless he was using a hunk of raw meat.

"Is Tasha going to be a liability?" Roland asked.

"Yes," Mordecai replied sullenly, "Apparently the bandits didn't really teach her to shoot, they just handed her a gun when she was little and made shooting prisoners into a game. I tried to teach her, but she's got way too many bad habits."

"How the hell is she still alive out here then?"

Both men looked back at camp now. Brick was now trying to entice Bunny into a game of tug-o-war and seemed to only be irritating the skag. Mordecai could tell this was going to end poorly.

"We'd better find out before we go into the outpost," Roland sighed, "I'll have Brick deal with the skag. I want you to put a couple bullets into her shield. Scare her. See what happens."

Mordecai nodded and slowly sank to one knee, pulling his Maliwan off his back and resting it across his leg. Roland trudged back to camp and Mordecai could hear him calling to Brick. Tasha remained where she was, intently drawing on the map with one finger, glowing outlines taking shape with each fluid gesture. Brick was nodding at Roland, then he was positioning himself between Bunny and Tasha. Mordecai waited, not wanting to raise his rifle until he was absolutely certain it was time to shoot. The huge man was enticing the skag to roll on its back and after a moment the creature just sagged as if boneless and flipped its stomach up to the sky so Brick could give it a belly-rub.

"I'll be damned," Mordecai whispered, "That's a new one."

He swung the rifle up. At this range, he didn't even need to use the scope. The first bullet exploded in a crackle of static and light and Lilith shot to her feet, fairly leaping backwards to get out of range of the effect. She would be furious that he'd done that. Mordecai fully intended to throw Roland under the bus on this one. Tasha was also scrambling back, bringing her assault rife up to bear as she did so. Mordecai estimated that her shield still held – there hadn't been the crack and flash of the field breaking – and fired again, this time around her legs. Just in case he was wrong.

Bullets slammed into the dirt yards from where Mordecai crouched. The recoil from the initial burst threw Tasha's aim off even more and Mordecai just shook his head in disappointment.

"I tried to tell her," he sighed to himself, "You have to account for the recoil and adjust."

Bunny was fighting to get to Tasha. Brick had apparently taken the skag's distraction as an opportunity to re-purpose the piece of chain he wore as a belt into a leash and was now dragging the skag back towards the runner, presumably so he could anchor the beast and keep it out of the way. That situation was under control at least. Tasha, on the other hand, wasn't. Roland was running for her, shouting something, but the girl seemed far too panicked to be listening. Lilith was just standing there, a pistol in her hands, clearly uncertain as to what was going on and not wanting to act without knowing. Smart.

Roland managed to close in with Tasha and his hand wrapped around the body of the gun before she could fire it. Mordecai smiled – he'd taken her shield down then. Perfect. Roland made a sharp jerk and Tasha ducked, simply relinquishing the weapon rather than be pulled off her feet by the motion. The strap slid off over her head and then the girl just leapt at Roland, hitting him with all her weight at around the chest. Mordecai saw the flash of metal in one hand.

"Shit," the sniper swore, putting his eye to the scope.

Skag-girl had a knife. She hadn't knocked Roland down yet, but the soldier was bearing the brunt of her weight as she had planted her feet in his chest and was holding on to the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other hand angling the knife downwards. Mordecai fired, the knife went spinning out of her grip, and with a startled shout both her and Roland went down in a heap. There was a flurry of movement that Mordecai couldn't make out and he scrambled to his feet, breaking into a run, carrying the rifle down by his hip. Roland was fighting, keeping one arm up to hold Tasha at bay. And the girl...

Mordecai thought then, that perhaps she hadn't earned her nickname by having a pet skag. The feral look in her eyes had taken over and Mordecai saw madness there. She would tear Roland apart with her bare hands, just as her mother had done in the bandit camp to those who threatened her or her child. Mordecai slowed, uncertain what he could do to get Tasha off of Roland, short of shooting her. Then a massive shape waded into the fray. Brick's hands closed around either of Tasha's arms and he simply lifted her up off the ground. She screeched – the sound mirrored by Bunny – and the sound of the two made Mordecai's skin crawl. Then Brick was setting her on her feet, still holding her by the arms, and she whipped about in his grip, snarling like a caged animal. Roland was shouting her name, trying to force her to focus. Mordecai sighed, dropped his rifle at the edge of the melee, and drew his revolver.

"Right," he said, brushing past Roland, "That's clearly not working. Allow me."

And he stopped right before the girl and looked her in the eye. Her lips were peeled back in a soundless snarl, her breathing came in rapid gasps that caught at the back of her throat at each inhale, and there was no sign that she recognized him in her eyes. He raised the gun, flipped it around so that he was holding it by the barrel, and then cracked the grip down into her forehead, a sharp, violent motion. He felt the impact of metal against bone shiver up through his wrist. She went limp and Brick let go, simply letting her fall to the ground unconscious in a heap at his feet.

There was silence from the Vault hunters. Bunny's snarls dissolved into an uncertain whine from where he was chained to the runner. Roland, Brick, and Mordecai all just stood around the girl, looking down at her. Roland didn't need to say it. Mordecai knew what he was thinking. Tasha was definitely a liability. At least with Brick, his rages were triggered rather than a default reaction.

"I don't know what the hell all this is about," Lilith said calmly from behind the three, "But she is going to be _so_ pissed when she wakes up and I'm not going to help one bit."


	5. New Friendships

Not only was Lilith determined not to help, she also seemed to be trying to make matters worse. Tasha was calm when she woke, mostly because the moment she tried to move she found that her head was spinning with pain and that she'd been tied up at the ankles and wrists. She sank back to the ground at that discovery, resting her head in the dirt and staring hollowly at nothing in particular.

"That was Mordecai's idea," Lilith supplied immediately, "Tying you up, that is. Figured it'd be better than having to knock you out again. Of course, I think the best option would have been not shooting at you to begin with."

Clearly, the siren was irate at Mordecai using an electric gun so close to where she was and wasn't going to place the blame on Roland. Mordecai thought that was most unfair.

"What is this all about?" Tasha asked weakly.

"Had to see how you reacted to a combat situation," Roland replied, "I, uh, didn't think it'd be quite so – extreme."

"You couldn't have asked?"

"Would you have been honest?" Mordecai asked quietly. She did not reply, which was answer enough.

"We figured out how we're going to assault the base while you were unconscious, at least," Roland said, stooping to untie the girl. She sat up, slowly, carefully not looking at any of them. "We've picked a spot to leave the runners and from there, we'll go on foot. Mordecai and Lilith will infiltrate the base first and will be creating a distraction away from the area you need to access. Brick and I will escort you in after that and will establish a perimeter to give you room to work. Once you're done, we'll get out, signal Mordecai and Lilith, and everyone will rendezvous back at the runners."

"Sounds simple."

"It will be," Mordecai said with a grin, "You got me along. And the other three, I suppose."

"Just one condition," Roland continued, "If we come under fire, you duck and cover and let us take care of it. That crazy act might work on bandits, but it ain't going to do shit against Crimson Lance. They got shields and body armor."

"Works for me," Brick rumbled. He'd been sticking close to Bunny and the skag seemed to have calmed down once it realized that Tasha wasn't in danger anymore.

"Yeah, but you're like... six times skag-girl's size."

"More like seven," Tasha muttered, pushing to her feet. She dusted herself off and took stock. Roland had kindly left her knife and assault rifle sitting nearby and she retrieved these, sheathing the blade back at her waist, and slinging the rifle back over her shoulder.

"We waiting for the night cycle?" she asked them.

"No point to," Mordecai replied, "They've got night vision inside their helmets. The only people it'll hinder is us. We're going now. And since we've got three runners and Tasha is the only person that doesn't know where we're heading, I get to drive hers."

"What?!"

Tasha's protests fell on deaf ears. Mordecai was already sprinting for the driver's seat before anyone could stop him and he threw his Maliwan into the back, springing lightly into the seat and searching for the harness. Bloodwing hopped in a moment later and climbed over Mordecai's shoulder to flutter down into the space behind the seat where he'd be sheltered from the wind. Then Tasha was there, leaning against the roll bars and glaring down at the sniper.

"What do you mean, you're driving?" she growled.

"I never get to drive," he replied, "They always say that since I'm a sniper, I belong in the turret. Besides, you can spend the ride with Bunny that way."

"Fuck no, it's crowded up there with a full-grown skag. Bunny is all yours. I'm riding with Lilith."

She turned to go. Whistled at Bunny, who leapt to his feet and went running for the turret of her runner. The entire vehicle rocked as the skag clambered up the side and into the turret, vanishing under the edge of the tarp. Mordecai watched as there was a brief discussion among the remaining three Vault hunters and it seemed that Lilith had no qualms about partnering up with skag-girl. Mordecai thought that perhaps this was not a good development. But it was too late to reconsider, for everyone was making for their respective positions and within minutes the desert was shaken to life with the roar of three engines.

* * *

The Crimson Lance outpost was at a bottleneck in a remote part of the Dahl Headlands. It was on the very fringe of the sector, right up against the very edge of civilization. There was a line on Pandora, where humanity pushed up against a wall of hostile fauna, and found it could go no further without significant resources. In most parts, no one walked out their front door without a gun. In these parts, no one walked outside without a gun and at least three friends that also had guns. The Crimson Lance had settled their outpost where the surrounding cliffs grew narrow, effectively channeling anyone that would pass straight through their encampment. The ridges were devoid of cover and anyone trying to traverse those would be exposed to their watchtowers. It was a highly defensible area, but there didn't appear to be anything of immediate value for the Crimson Lance to defend. Roland commented on this as soon as the runners were stopped and the engines killed.

"The land past the outpost is flat and open," Tasha replied to his observation, "It's only inhabited by scattered camps as well, most of them bandit ones, and the ones that aren't bandits are too small and unimportant to warrant any attention. It'd be quite easy for the Crimson Lance to clear the area out and use it as a landing and staging area for interstellar ships."

"We can't have that," Roland said.

"I agree," Tasha replied, "But unless you want to murder everyone in that outpost, I think we'd best be content to simply restore power to the people living there."

The four Vault hunters exchanged glances. Then Lilith shrugged.

"I'm cool with killing everyone," she said.

"Can I be your best friend?" Tasha asked the siren, "Seriously, I don't have any best friends and you're the only person here that hasn't shot at me, hit me, or taken my gun away."

"Yeah, we can be friends. C'mon, help me get the runners covered up. We can talk about boys and gossip while we do."

The two women wandered off to start pulling tarps over the runners. The paint on Tasha's was well-suited for camouflage, but the other two were not. The team stashed brown tarps in the storage bins for just the occasion when they needed to leave the runners behind and didn't want them to stand out.

"This is a terrible development," Mordecai muttered to Brick, watching the two women talk.

"Seems okay to me," Brick replied.

"That's because you like your women crazy."

"I like my women _hot._"

"Skag-girl is hot?"

There was a pause as Brick thought this over.

"Not sure yet," he said with a shrug, "But Lilith certainly is."

"Yeah. She is."

There was a polite cough from behind the two.

"If you're done," Roland said pointedly, "We need to get moving."

There wasn't much more chatter after that. The five started out, leaving the runners behind in the shadow of an overhang. Roland took the lead, Brick brought up the rear. Mordecai straggled off to one side so that he'd have a clear shot at anything in front of them without Roland getting in the way. Lilith and skag-girl seemed content in the middle, walking side by side, with Bunny just a pace behind his mistress. Bloodwing was unusually restless on Mordecai's shoulder, shifting on the piece of metal that was his perch and complaining in an undertone. Mordecai reached a hand up and gently stroked the bird's head with his thumb to calm him somewhat.

Snippets of conversation were drifting over to where Mordecai walked and he made his way closer to overhear. Tasha seemed to take her declaration of friendship seriously and Mordecai wondered if this wasn't the first time she'd had a chance to talk to another woman that wasn't legitimately insane. There were a number of female bandits, of course, but their position was a unique one and didn't engender itself to making friends. Bandit camps in general weren't a place for making friends. Lilith seemed intrigued about the particulars of growing up in such a manner and Tasha was content to relate stories. She glanced over as Mordecai fell into step a bit closer but otherwise gave him no attention and continued talking.

"My first and only boyfriend was a midget," Tasha was saying, "I guess I thought he was my age since he was around my height."

"How'd that go?" Lilith asked. Mordecai wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, being in a bandit camp is sort of like having dozens of homicidal older brothers. Remember that incendiary shotgun Lars had? That's how it ended."

"Oh."

"And I was the one that shot the midget. Lars said I could have the gun if I did. Bastard lied to me, he took it back once my boyfriend was done burning to death. I suppose it makes me a terrible person that I'm more upset I didn't get that gun rather than I murdered someone."

"Maybe not," Mordecai interjected, "Look at us, we're merciless Vault hunters motivated only by money and we find amusement in the suffering of others. Or at least, I do. But we're not necessarily bad people."

"Yes we are," Lilith countered, "We're bad people."

"Well, okay, I suppose we are. But at least now we have something in common."

"I laughed while he burned to death," Tasha said evenly.

"I think it's funny too. See, we're friends now."

Tasha eyed him critically.

"Alright," she said, "But don't think this means I forgive you for shooting me with that rifle."

The conversation shifted a bit after that. Mordecai got Tasha talking about what she knew about guns and it turned out she was more than just someone that could repair them. The bulk of the work she did for bandits was keeping their electricity and water working, but occasionally she worked on guns as well. This she tried to do sparingly, as she feared what would happen if word got out that not only could she fix guns, but also potentially improve them. The bandits viewed her as too important to kill – save for a handful of camps she dutifully avoided – but if she became someone that could give them an edge against their enemies, she might become something they wanted to possess, instead of merely allow to live. Most of her experiments were failures but the handful of successes went to Marcus, and the money he paid her was about the only cash she received, as the bandits were content to pay in provisions alone and she did not want to push her luck.

"Most of the time I just make 'em more accurate or fire faster," she told them, "There's no in-between on it either, my improvements either work or the gun won't fire straight or jams on every other bullet. I once tried to combine elemental effects on a Maliwan. That was a disaster. The gun exploded the first time I fired it. Shield absorbed most of it, but I was still picking shrapnel out of my shoulder."

She had barely finished the sentence when Roland turned and gestured for them all to be silent. Mordecai dropped into a crouch out of habit and crept up beside the soldier, who was edging up to the crest of the hill. Mordecai joined him while the other three stayed behind, on the slope and out of sight from anyone on the other side. The outpost was ahead, the terrain falling into a steady slope until it butted up against the metal and concrete walls of the fortress. Or rather, what would be a fortress when it was fully built. A small one, but a fortress nonetheless. Mordecai could see the half-finished towers where sentry guns would go. He did not like their placement. They'd give the gunners a clear view of the entirety of the surrounding terrain, including the ridges, and there weren't any good sniping positions that would allow him to fire on them without exposing himself.

"I think Lilith is right," Mordecai whispered, "We should kill everyone inside. Once they're entrenched it's going to be damn hard to dig them out."

"This is going to take a drastic change of plans. Let's talk."

The two scooted back down the hill to join the rest. Roland laid out the problem and while Brick and Lilith seemed unperturbed by the idea of taking on the entire outpost, Tasha stared at the four like they were crazy. From a girl raised by bandits, with a pet skag, and an insane mother and father, this was something.

"If we do this," she said, "The Crimson Lance are going to be out for our blood."

"Uh, hello?" Lilith said, "They already are. Don't you hear any of the rumors? They're even blaming us for Commandant Steele's death."

"And the worst is we're not even directly responsible for that one," Mordecai sighed, "I so wanted to shoot her in the head."

"You're already on their list of people they kill," Roland said, "simply because you've got bandit contact. You're just not important enough to go after – they probably don't even know you exist – and if we do this right, it's going to stay that way. Can you take down ECHO for this area?"

She frowned and walked away from the four, skirting up the hill to stare down into the outpost. She was there for a long while, studying it, before returning to the two. Her shoulders were hunched, a nervous gesture, but her face remained composed.

"I see a relay tower," she said, "They use those to boost the signal where the satellites can't get a direct line either due to terrain or simply being outside of their range. If we take that offline, there's a good chance it'll bring down ECHO. This area has never had a good connection and with the power grid down, the one relay tower outside the outpost is non-functional."

"We won't be able to communicate with each other once that happens," Roland warned, "I think we've been working together long enough to know what to do though. Mordecai, I want you outside the outpost to start with. Cover Tasha and Lilith – they'll sneak inside and get to the tower. Make sure if they're seen, no one lives long enough to raise the alarm. Once ECHO is down, start emptying the yard. Brick and I will go in at that point. Lilith, get Tasha back outside the complex, and then help Mordecai clean up any stragglers."

"Once the outpost is empty, I can go reroute the electrical grid," Tasha said, "I think I can also overload the Crimson Lance generator and blow the place up."

"I like this plan," Brick said.

"Let's do it," Roland said, "No sense waiting. Lilith, Tasha, you're up."

Lilith nodded. She looked Tasha over and then pulled out her spare pistol, holding it out to the girl.

"Take it," she said, "Leave the assault rifle behind. This one is quiet."

Mordecai was irritated to see that Tasha made no protest at this suggestion. She got all upset when Mordecai had taken her rifle away, but then again, he supposed that's because he did so while holding her at gun-point. That might have had something to do with it. Surprisingly, Tasha walked over to him with the assault rifle, holding it out to him. He took it, carefully.

"Keep hold of it for me," she said, "I'm also ordering Bunny to guard you. He'll stay put. And if anything happens to me..." A worried look flitted momentarily across her face. "My dad's name is Gerald Barrin. Tell him the nice girl from the streets sent you and you need your rifle fixed. He should be able to."

Then she turned and fled to Lilith's side. The two started off towards the outpost, neither looking back. Mordecai followed only far enough to give himself a clear vantage of the outpost. Roland joined him with binoculars. He'd spot and tell them when the sentries were not looking, so they could dart to the next piece of cover along the ridge wall. Mordecai would be insurance to ensure that if something went wrong, the other side would be the ones that died instead of the two women. Out of curiosity, he dropped the cross-hairs of his scope over the two. They were crouching behind the first piece of cover, waiting for Roland's signal over their private ECHO channel. For a moment, Tasha turned to look back up the hill. They were too far to see him clearly, but in that brief instant it seemed like she was looking directly at him. There was naked fear in her face. Then Roland murmured 'go', and Lilith was taking her wrist and the two were running for the outpost.


	6. The Attack

_Author's Note: I've decided to call Bloodwing a female. It's just too confusing with pronouns to have both Bunny and Bloodwing the same gender, and I've gotten far enough in Borderlands 2 that I'm used to Bloodwing being a 'she' now._

* * *

It was apparent that infiltration was not one of skag-girl's attributes. The two hit the wall and at Roland's all clear, Lilith threw up a line and shimmied up the thin cable once it was stuck fast to the cement. Tasha was far slower and so Lilith was forced to remain at the top of the wall, crouched, watching for a patrol. Mordecai felt the tension in his chest, like a weight on his heart. Roland was none too pleased by the delay, either.

"Please tell me they don't have a watch in the towers yet," the soldier said. Mordecai demurely swung his rifle to bear on the half-finished watchtowers, checking each with his sights.

"They're empty. But Lilith is still really exposed."

"Keep your sights on the man at 3 o'clock. If he looks in her direction, drop him."

Mordecai centered the cross-hair on the man's head. There was a thrill of power in this, watching the soldier and knowing that one wrong movement on his part would result in his death. The soldier did not know this. The soldier had no idea that at this very second, there was a bullet waiting for him and in a heartbeat, if Mordecai willed it, that bullet would puncture through his helmet and bury itself into his skull, the shock-wave liquifying the brain and spraying bone shards through the brain cavity like knives. Mordecai could not help but feel like a god, holding this power over another in his hands. He felt like a current was running through his body, deadening his senses, causing his hands to tingle. This was the moment he lived for. He controlled this situation. Roland may call orders from beside him, but he held the sniper rifle, and he would be the one to determine who lived and died when it came to it.

The power made him an arrogant son of a bitch. Mordecai knew this. He did not care.

"Tasha is finally on the wall," Roland sighed, narrating as Mordecai would not be taking his sight off his target now, "They're dropping down inside the complex. I'm going to lose visual on them."

"Watch the men on the wall for me," Mordecai replied, "I can kill them faster if I have a spotter."

There was a crunch of a heavy weight settling down beside him. Mordecai glanced aside for a moment and Bunny rolled his head to meet the sniper's eyes. The skag was laying on his belly, one hind leg stretched out close enough to almost touch Mordecai's ankle. From his shoulder, Bloodwing ruffled her feathers and hissed menacingly at the skag before climbing across the back of Mordecai's neck to settle on the opposite shoulder, away from the skag. Mordecai winced. He didn't have any sort of guard on that shoulder and Bloodwing's claws dug through the leather of his vest with ease.

"Careful girl," Mordecai chided, settling back down to watch the wall.

"Four o'clock, at the corner," Roland snapped, tight urgency in his voice, "Drop him."

The cross-hard darted towards Roland's directions and as it floated across the helm of a soldier, Mordecai fired. There was a flash of blue static and the body jerked, legs fused rigid by the electricity that ran through the muscles, the arms twitching helplessly at the man's side. Then the soldier toppled, released from the spell like a puppet with strings cut.

"Girls, you may have incoming," Roland said through the ECHO.

"Girls?" Lilith's did not sound pleased and Mordecai had to assume it was from the moniker. She was never so irritated where violence was concerned.

"Sorry. Ladies."

"Much better."

There was a pause from inside the base. Either the alarm hadn't gone out or the officers were just now wrapping their heads around what the silence from their downed man meant. Another second would tell them whether Roland's spotting had been quick enough and if Mordecai's bullet had done the job. Through his scope, Mordecai could see Tasha scaling the girders of the relay tower, intent upon reaching the top platform. There was a glimpse of red as Lilith shifted into view for a moment, the top of her head visible, and then she vanished back behind the wall again.

"This is a terrible spot," Mordecai said, "I only got visibility on half the courtyard."

"Let's get you on the wall then," Roland said, standing. There were alarms sounding now, the klaxons carrying across the open air to where he knelt. The girls – no, ladies – were discovered. Roland's plan was going to go shit all to hell, for the most part. Mordecai wasn't terribly concerned. This was usually how things went. It was the side that could adjust faster that came out alive.

Beside him, Bunny roused himself to his feet. Mordecai spared the skag a glance.

"Guess you're with me," he muttered, "I'm becoming a damned zookeeper."

Brick was quick to join them upon hearing the alarm. The three made for the walls, breaking up so that they'd present less of a concentrated target. They were spotted about halfway there – the sound of gunfire was now emanating from inside – and Mordecai saw some frantic gesturing from one of the soldiers up on the wall. He paused, swung his rifle up to bear, and dropped him. The man fell inwards off the wall and vanished from sight. Then Mordecai was running again. Brick and Roland were almost to the main entrance. Roland paused and Mordecai saw something flash – metallic in nature – and then the steady thrum of gunfire from Roland's sentry gun whined into the air. It was a comforting sound. Brick was gone, out of sight now, barreling head-first into the fortress. Mordecai angled off to the side, forgoing the front gate, and instead hit the spot where Lilith had left her line up. He slung the Maliwan over one shoulder and grabbed the rope, Bloodwing taking to the air and arching up towards the top of the wall.

"Go on, girl!" Mordecai hissed. She'd take care of anyone waiting for him at the top.

Below, there was a frustrated whine. Almost to the top, the thinly twined metal sharp against his gloved hands, Mordecai paused and looked down. Bunny was at the bottom, standing on his hind-legs, staring up in what Mordecai could only assume was dismay. It was hard to make out any emotion on the skag. He backed up for a moment, turned in a circle, whined again, and then Mordecai saw the beast crouch.

"No no no nononono!" Mordecai cried, realizing what the stance was.

The skag leapt. Mordecai caught a glimpse of its belly for just a moment and then he cringed against the cold concrete wall as the skag slammed into it just above him, skittering for purchase with his claws, just feet short of the top.

"Dios!" Mordecai cried, "Damn!"

He slapped one hand on the hindquarters of the beast and shoved. The weight of the skag was tremendous – he could feel it bearing down through his wrist all the way into his shoulder and he wrapped his legs around the cable, vying for purchase, feeling his grip slipping. Then he gave a cry of wordless exertion and shoved with all his might, just as Bunny planted both hind legs and kicked. The skag skittered up another foot and then it was kicking futilely in mid-air, his chest pulled up over the edge of the wall.

Mordecai, on the other hand, had lost his hold in trying to force the skag up and over. He caught a glimpse of Bunny vanishing up onto the rampart as he fell, then he hit the unyielding ground beneath on his back. There was a jolt of pain, his shield flashed down a quarter in power, and he inhaled sharply, his lungs seizing up and refusing to work. For a moment he lay there, gasping, listening to the crackle of gunshots and the strangely mechanical screams of the Crimson Lance through their helmets.

"Tasha," Mordecai said through his ECHO, his voice breaking as he struggled to breath normally again, "Your dog is dumb as shit."

There was no reply. Mordecai considered that an ill sign and rolled to his feet, wincing as pain lanced through his hips and shoulders. The rifle on his back had not felt good when he impacted, but nothing seemed to be damaged. Just painful. Mordecai reached for the cable and started his climb again, this time gaining the top without incident. Carnage greeted him. He swung his leg up over a blood-slicked ledge, his boots landing with a splash in a puddle that used to be a man. The soldier had been torn in half and a few yards away, Bunny was dragging the lower half of the torso away, snarling at nothing in particular and jerking his head back and forth in short, predatory bursts. Opposite him, Bloodwing was prying at the helmet, having already reduced the man's neck to a red ruin, trying to get at the flesh of the face.

"Bloodwing!" Mordecai snapped, "Go get 'em, girl!"

The bird's head jerked up and then focused in on the courtyard. She took to the air and as an after-thought, Mordecai snapped at Bunny and pointed at the Crimson Lance forming up in the open space below.

"You too," he said. Amazingly, the skag complied, leaping off the ledge and landing at a run, heading directly for the nearest soldier. The man turned at the last minute as the skag slammed into him, carrying him backwards until his back impacted against a pile of cement blocks. Then he slumped to the ground, kicking and flailing with his gun, and Bunny bunched his neck and wrenched. The man spasmed. His legs continued to jerk even as Bunny danced about him, tearing at the joins of his limbs, finally clamping down his jaws on the man's wrist and planting his feet against the body. He pulled and Mordecai looked away. The nearby Crimson Lance were reforming, a knot of three moving to take aim on the preoccupied skag.

Mordecai knelt, feeling the warm blood soak into the knee of his pants as he did. The soldiers were behind cover and had managed to force Roland and Brick to do the same. Brick was closer and Mordecai watched him peer around the edge of the crates he was behind, gauging the distance between him and the soldiers. A barrage of gunfire forced him to duck back behind and Mordecai could see the frustration written on his face. Roland was further back, in a low crouch behind a barricade, and Mordecai knew that Tasha must have been successful in bringing down the ECHO. Roland wasn't shouting orders at them over it, after all. It also meant that she probably hadn't heard his comment about how idiotic her skag was. He'd have to give her hell about it later.

None of the soldiers had noticed Mordecai on the wall. They were too concerned with Roland and Brick. The sniper exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. He estimated he could kill the three moving to eliminate Bunny before he was forced to take cover.

Bloodwing made the first move. The bird hit the lead soldier at the back of the neck. She seized hold with her claws, latching in where the helmet joined the body armor, and reached around and under with her beak. She flailed her wings, snapping her head back, and there was a spray of blood as her beak found an artery. The man staggered and she let go, rising back into the air as he fell and bleed out in seconds. Mordecai was firing by that point, landing his first bullet into the soldier's head. The third remaining soldier was running for cover now and Mordecai lead his cross-hair, letting the man run into the point before firing. The bullet fell a bit low and tore through the soldier's throat instead. He ran a pace before toppling.

Bullets fell all around Mordecai. The Crimson Lance were far more dangerous than bandits – their aim was refined and they worked as a team, setting up a cross-fire on the lone sniper exposed up on the ramparts. Mordecai's shield flashed in his vision and the level started dropping alarmingly fast. He broke into a run, bringing his rifle in front of him as he did and ejecting the two spent casings. His fingers moved on instinct, pulling free two bullets from his belt and sliding them home. They clicked home just as he rounded a bend and slid into cover behind a pillar that would become a support for a watchtower.

He was not alone. Two Crimson Lance were already there, just out of sight behind the half-built wall. Mordecai cried out in surprise and the two opened fire – close enough that the shock of the bullets against his shield was physical, like rocks being thrown at him. He transferred his rifle to his left hand and swung his right back up over his shoulder, closing on the hilt of his sword. He did not give himself time to think. The weapon became an extension of his body and he stepped forwards with one foot, carrying the motion upwards through his waist, his chest, and outwards through his shoulder. The blade took all those small movements and accelerated them, falling downwards towards the closest of the Crimson Lance soldiers. The man raised his gun to block, too slow, and the sword impacted at the forearm. It was a special alloy of metal, designed to be effective against more than just flesh, and the shock of it piercing the armor and carrying into the bone of the man's arm carried up into Mordecai's shoulder. He wrenched it free and brought it down again, a sharp jerk that drew his muscles steel-tight, and the sword went into the man's shoulder, cutting through the collarbone. He screamed, falling to his knees, and Mordecai aimed his rifle from the hip and gut-shot the man behind him. At this range, the high-powered rifle sent the bullet clear through the man's body. He staggered backwards, his back hitting against the far wall, and then slid to the ground, hands patting weakly at the wound. Mordecai didn't give him a chance to realize what had happened. He wrenched his sword free, stalked over, and reversed his grip on it, angling the blade downwards. Then he dropped to his knees, letting his weight carry the blade into the man's chest.

Now. There was the situation in the courtyard to attend to. His friends needed him. He moved to the edge of the platform, gazing down. Roland and Brick had made good use of his diversion and had taken the entire area, clearing out the soldiers and now they had turned to face reinforcements coming from the main building. They now occupied the space the soldiers that had them pinned were once in. Bunny was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Lilith or skag-girl, for that matter. Mordecai frowned, studying the scene. There was the relay tower... and then Mordecai saw skag-girl. She was near the bottom of the girders, being pulled bodily off by a Crimson Lance soldier. There were two of them. She struggled, kicking, and Mordecai hissed with furious frustration that she hadn't the presence of mind to go for her pistol. Instead, the Crimson Lance threw her to the ground, still retaining a grip on her arm, and flipped her around so that she was forced onto her knees, wrenching one arm behind her back. Tasha's back arched and Mordecai could see her mouth open in a cry of pain. Then the Crimson Lance soldier put the barrel of his pistol to the back of her head.

"Where _are_ you, Lilith!?" Mordecai snarled.

They were either going to use her as a hostage or shoot her right here and now. Either possibility was something Mordecai couldn't allow. He trained his gun, knowing he only had one shot at this. It was a long one too, halfway across the complex, and Mordecai forced himself to be calm. This could not be rushed. His scope flitted across Tasha and he saw her face, saw her staring at the sky with the hopeless resignation of someone that knows they have only seconds left to live. She seemed calm, lost, and utterly alone.

And perhaps she'd always been that way, out in the wilderness with only a skag and the tolerance of the bandits for company. Perhaps that moment of insanity, when only Brick could hold her, was not truly insanity but the cracking of a composure. Mordecai knew what Pandora could do to a person, the horrors that wore on the soul until one became numb or until one reveled in them as sort of a desperate attempt to cope. Tasha had become numb. Mordecai could see that, as she knelt silent and still, waiting to die. He wouldn't do such a thing. He'd fight until the last breath, cursing the person that killed him at the end of it.

His rifle rested on her captor. One shot. He exhaled, let his lungs rest empty for a moment, and fired. Tasha flinched, ducking her head, and the soldier toppled. Then she flashed into motion, before Mordecai could retrain his sight, and hit the second soldier around the stomach. Her weight, slight as it was, bore him to the ground and then she slammed a fist down and when she withdrew her hand, Mordecai saw that the knife it had held was left behind, pinioning the man's right arm to the ground with the blade through the wrist. She straddled him at the chest, her hands fumbling at the line of the helmet and then she tore this free and stared down at his bare face for a moment. She was her mother's daughter.

"No," Mordecai whispered, "No need for that, not while I'm around."

And he fired. Tasha rocked back, her expression dull, staring in mute confusion at the man beneath her, at the long streak of blood and brain matter Mordecai's bullet had left sprayed out to one side. Then she skittered back, off of the dead man, and didn't stop moving until her back hit up against the base of the relay tower. She dropped to the ground, drawing her knees up close to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them. Tasha would not be any use for the rest of the fight. Mordecai sighed, feeling the tension unwind from his shoulders. The courtyard was almost clear. Roland and Brick were mopping up the rest and heading to sweep the interior of the fortress. There was little left for a sniper to do. He would wait, he decided, until he was certain all the fighting was going to take place indoors. He would watch over Tasha from above, until it was clear. Then he would go to her.

Lilith had a lot to answer for.


	7. Fathers and Whiskey

_Author's Note: Worst. Role-models. EVER._

* * *

Tasha did not stir as Mordecai approached. She was utterly still, her muscles taunt, her eyes directed straight ahead and unfocused, staring at nothing. For a brief moment, Mordecai wondered if perhaps he should just leave her, go find Roland and the rest and back them up in clearing out the inside of the base. He feared that if he left now though, Tasha would bolt, and he'd not see her again and never get his rifle fixed. With a heavy sigh, he settled down on the ground next to her, stretching out his long legs in front of him and resting his rifle across them. He stared down at it, hands absently running over the surface and tracing the grooves.

"So how'd you get those scars on your arms?" he asked. Sometimes, his shield failed and he took a bullet. In those moments Roland or Lilith would try and engage him in conversation as a distraction while Roland pulled the slug out. He thought that maybe, it would work here, even though Tasha was not injured in any way he recognized.

"Bunny," she said. Her voice was flat. "He doesn't know how to be gentle when he wants to play. I finally taught him he's only allowed to play with people I tell him to."

"So – people you want dead?"

"Yes."

"If you could start over," he said, "leave all this behind, would you?"

She frowned, not understanding. Mordecai decided he'd have to be direct.

"Helena Pierce doesn't like us four much, but we've still got a good amount of sway in New Haven. It's a reluctant respect and if we decided to throw our weight around, I'm sure we could get her to do us a favor. We could get you let inside. Give you a home."

She snapped to her feet, pacing quickly away from the sniper. Mordecai saw her face for an instant before she turned it away from him – her features were tight with some unspoken tension. He'd touched a live wire with this one. Mordecai shook his head in dismay and turned his gaze back to his rifle. At least she wasn't freaking out about almost dying anymore.

"Why did you ask that?" she whispered, her back to him, "Please don't make me choose."

"It's a simple decision," Mordecai replied, "Chose between what – scraping out a living hoping the bandits don't kill you, or go live somewhere you can spend a night not worrying you're going to get murdered – or worse – in your sleep? C'mon."

"Don't!" She whirled on him and Mordecai jerked back, his shoulders hitting the metal beam behind him as he straightened in surprise. His hand fell to the pistol at his leg in reflex and although his fingers curled about the grip, he managed to keep from pulling and firing. Skag-girl stood there, Lilith's loaned pistol in her hands, the barrel pointed at Mordecai. Her hands were trembling.

"Just don't," she said evenly, "Don't try and help me. I don't want it. You did what I asked and cleared out the Crimson Lance here – once I fix your rifle we'll be even. I don't want anything else."

There was a pause. Mordecai finally looked away and shrugged, carefully taking his hand away from his gun and keeping it where she would see it. He didn't think Lilith's pistol could take out his shield in one shot – assuming Tasha could even hit him – but he didn't want to make the situation even worse. There was more going on here than he knew about and he'd just stepped on a land-mine. This was why he preferred Bloodwing. She wasn't so complicated.

"Alright," he said carefully, "Forget I asked. How about you go see about getting this base rigged to blow? I bet the inside is emptied out by now."

She took a step back and then another. At the third, she awkwardly holstered the pistol at her waist and then turned to walk away. Mordecai could read the fear in her steps, even and measured as they were. She wasn't convinced there wasn't a bullet waiting to hit her in the back. Mordecai exhaled and readjusted his rifle so that the barrel rested against his shoulder. After skag-girl was out of sight there was a rustle from above him and then Bloodwing dropped down off the beams of the relay tower to light on his shoulder.

"Hey girl," he murmured, scratching her neck, "You were watching that, weren't you? Thanks for not killing her when she pulled the gun."

Bloodwing only chirped agreeably in his ear.

* * *

It took Tasha some time to figure out how to overload the generator. Roland and Lilith left Brick to guard her as she worked and came up for some fresh air while they waited. Mordecai saw the two exit the building – Lilith streaked with blood that was not her own – and the sniper heaved himself to his feet and made his way over. Roland moved to intercept and Mordecai hissed, making to brush past the soldier. The big man wasn't going to allow it and caught Mordecai by the arm. As strong as the sniper was, he was easily out-massed by Roland and so after a brief contest of wills, he relinquished and allowed Roland to turn him around and give him a shove in the opposite direction of Lilith.

"Let's walk," Roland said. Mordecai snarled in frustration. That meant the soldier wanted to talk. He always approached things this way.

"She didn't stick to our plan," Mordecai said, "One of the Crimson Lance got a gun to Tasha's head."

"Lilith did what she thought was best," Roland replied, "I have to agree."

"Because you're her boyfriend?" Mordecai sneered, "Dammit Roland, that girl is the only person that can fix my rifle! And Lilith almost fucked it all up by running off to be some siren psycho-bitch -"

"Enough!"

Roland's hand closed on the front of Mordecai's vest. He felt himself lifted a half-inch off his feet and then soldier shook him, two sharp jerks, and then threw him back so that the sniper staggered and almost fell, catching against a crate with a resounding bang. He stood there, regaining his balance, nursing both a bruised shoulder and a bruised ego. Roland glared down at him.

"Pull yourself together," Roland said evenly, "You're not short-tempered against your friends like this. Give Lilith a chance to talk, she'll explain everything."

Mordecai looked aside, glad that his goggles and mask hid his expression. He... did have a bit of a temper. It was just slow to boil, spending itself in a morbid glee instead, and when it did snap it was not at his friends. Only his enemies. Only those that deserved it.

"Right," Mordecai said softly, "Yeah. I can do that. Sorry. Things have just been... tense... since the Vault."

"I know." Roland sounded tired. Mordecai wondered if he too still felt the let-down of what they had found, if it wore on him that they fought so hard and found only destruction. If he felt adrift on Pandora, robbed of a purpose. Mordecai certainly did.

The sniper made his way to where Lilith was waiting. She stood with her hand on her hip, her head tilted to one side to regard him. He stopped a yard away and the two regarded each other. Lilith appeared serene. That wasn't always a good sign.

"I'll have you know," she said, "that Roland wanted to talk to you and I let him only because he said I'd be liable to set you on fire if you lost your temper at me. And since I saw Roland throw you into a crate, I'd say you did."

"Yeah, well." Mordecai shifted uncomfortably and kicked at the dirt. "Tasha almost got killed. It's been a while since someone on my side came that close to dying."

"Been a long while," Lilith agreed, "But listen, it was her idea that I go ahead. Seriously. The alarm went off and she was afraid they might have other ways of calling out to other outposts. She asked me to get to the control center and eliminate everyone inside."

"Leaving her alone?"

Lilith's face grew intent. She was focused on him and Mordecai had the distinct impression that she expected – no, demanded – something of him in this moment. He had no idea what it was and behind his goggles, his eyes narrowed, as if his sniper's vision could somehow see and understand why any of this was significant.

"Not alone," Lilith said in an undertone, "You were there."

"To snipe? Well, I _am _rather good at it, but I can't be everywhere-"

"No, Mordecai. How old do you think skag-girl is?"

"Early twenties?" How was this relevant to anything?

"That's a bit high. Physically, try more around sixteen or seventeen. Mentally? Much younger. The bandits treat her like a child and that's kept her alive – if she's harmless, they have no reason to fear her and if she's valuable, they have no reason to kill her. She's not had anyone treat her like she's an adult. And then you come along and try to teach her to shoot-"

"Wait, wait, wait, what the hell does that have to do with anything?" he protested. Lilith inhaled in obvious frustration and then let it out in a sigh.

"She looks up to you, Mordecai. She trusted you to protect her while I went off to empty the control room."

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

The sniper turned to walk away. This was not what he intended to happen. All he wanted was a rifle with a working scope – his favorite rifle, no less – and all he had intended was to maybe get Tasha able to shoot at something without making him cringe to watch.

"So what?" he said, his back to Lilith, "What do I do now?"

"Nothing. Just carry on as you have been."

For a moment he thought she was being sarcastic. But Lilith's sarcasm was never subtle – the woman in general was hardly a subtle person, despite her chosen style of combat – and he realized with some sort of relief that she was giving her honest opinion. She was right, of course. Skag-girl was hardly his problem and once she fixed his rifle they'd go in different directions and their paths might never cross again. Or perhaps they would, and Mordecai had to admit that wouldn't be such a bad thing. She seemed like a useful person to know and if she admired him, than perhaps he could even use that to his advantage at some point or another. She knew the bandits. There were ways to use that information without revealing the source.

"Lilith," he said, a thought occurring to him, "Her father is insane and doesn't recognize her. The bandit leader that kind of raised her was neglectful and cruel. You said she looks up to me – like a father?"

"Yep."

"Son of a bitch," he hissed.

* * *

It took almost two hours for Tasha to rig everything up. Brick – generally not so patient – seemed unconcerned by the delay, possibly because the payoff was going to be worth it. The two came out of the building side by side, Tasha ludicrously small walking at his side. His pale shadow engulfed her and she craned her neck up to look at him, chattering away and not watching where she was going. Any sign of her previous distress was gone, her face was animated and it was clear she was enumerating on a favorite topic. Snippets of the conversation drifted over as they came closer and Mordecai realized she was explaining how she planned to bring power back to the area even with the outpost destroyed.

"There's another line, twenty miles west of here," she said, "It's not enough to carry the full brunt of the current, so I'm going to reinforce it. I got agreements from the bandit camps, they're going to send some men out to help and we'll lay another half-dozen lines so that instead of one big power cable, we'll distribute the load through many. It'll be hot as hell, but anyone that goes sticking their hand on a wire deserves to get killed. Might raise the collective intelligence of the area or something. And what's better, I don't think the Crimson Lance know about this line so if they attempt to reestablish in this area, they won't be able to so easily cut everyone off from power or ECHO again."

"What about water?" Roland called over. She snapped her attention over to the soldier. Mordecai met Brick's eyes and saw that the big man had clearly not been listening to a word she'd said, letting the chatter wash over him like wind in the dunes.

"Pipes are intact," she said, "It's the pumps that went down and those will come back up once I'm done."

"You can really get the bandits to cooperate?"

"I can't." She shrugged. "The bandit leaders can. I'll probably have to let Bunny eat someone to get them to do what I say, but between that and the threat of having to answer to their respective bosses, it should be fine."

Mordecai leaned closer to Lilith. She did the same, putting her head against his shoulder so that he could easily whisper in her ear. They knew each other well. The journey to the Vault had been long and all four of them knew each other back and forwards.

"You don't get members of different gangs to cooperate," he whispered, "She's only going to get help from one. I bet a barrel of skag-spit whiskey that it's the one she comes from."

"An entire barrel? You're going to kill yourself with it."

"I'll ration. You in?"

"I'm in. And you so won't ration, I'll be picking your drunk ass off the streets of New Haven if you're right."

There was a clatter of claws against asphalt and then Bunny rounded around the building heading directly for Tasha, half its tongue hanging from its serrated face. Her face grew drawn and Mordecai recognized the expression – it was the look of someone that fully expects a punch to the gut and is bracing for it. Sure enough, the skag hit Tasha in the chest, bearing her to the ground and whipping his tongue free to slobber along her cheek. She shouted something incoherent and raised her arms to fend the skag off. For a moment, the skag was too deliriously happy to obey, and then the words penetrated its thick skull and it slunk off to the side, turning in circles instead as an outlet for its joy. Skag-girl rolled to her feet and glanced at her hand, hissing to find blood welling up from a cut. She stuck it in her mouth and sucked at the wound.

"Perfect," Mordecai whispered, stepping forwards.

Lilith watched him curiously. He fully intended to win this bet and to do that, he needed a bit more information. Tasha looked up at him as he approached, her hand still in her mouth.

"Here," he said, reaching for her arm, "Let me."

This wouldn't do anything to discourage her, he knew. But an entire barrel of whiskey was on the line and for that, Mordecai was willing to suffer a bit longer with having a doe-eyed admirer. Maybe she'd be inspired to practice and learn to shoot finally. He pulled her arm down, his hand around her wrist, and with his other hand snatched at the strip of cloth wound around her upper arm. She was not quick enough to pull away and besides, Mordecai was stronger than she was and held her arm fast. The bandage came free and Mordecai pretended to not even notice the tattoo that was concealed underneath it, instead winding the cloth around her hand and tucking the ends in tight. Then he turned and walked away as if nothing had happened. He saw, briefly, in the corner of his eye Tasha covering her arm with her other hand and watching Roland warily.

"You weren't smart enough to know what a gang symbol is when you got that, right?" he asked her.

"Right," she replied, "I wanted my ears pierced. He said he didn't do piercings, just tattoos, so I figured since everyone else had one I should too."

"Piercings are easy," Lilith said, "There's a needle in the runner's med-kit, I'll do it once we get back."

And that seemed to be the end of it. Mordecai had committed the tattoo to memory though – a bird's naked skull adorned with black feathers. He had to admit that for a bandit gang, their choice of insignia wasn't that bad. Anyone that admired birds was maybe a bit alright in his book. The four tromped from the outpost and once they had gained the top of the ridge they turned to watch Tasha's handiwork. She had rigged it to detonate remotely and she allowed Brick to do the honors. The explosion shook the ground even from where they stood, turning the sand into little rivulets of current at their feet. The light from the billowing fireballs reflected off Mordecai's goggles and he smiled at the sight. In one corner, the half-built watchtower crumpled and slumped, as if gasping for one last breath, before vanishing in a plume of dust and smoke.

"I need to hang out with you guys more often," Tasha said dreamily, "Blowing stuff up is kind of awesome."

"I like you," Brick said heartily, and drew his hand back for a comradely slap on the back. Mordecai quickly shook his head 'no', but the man didn't notice, and the meaty smack sent Tasha face-first into the dirt.


	8. Family

_Author's Note: And I'm done. Might take a break from writing Borderlands fanfics now to work on some of my original stuff. And the way this fic ends is totally not based on real experiences of taking care of a drunkie, oh no, certainly not. _

* * *

Mordecai had seen death in enough of its myriad of forms that he believed himself immune to the sight of damage to the human body. He had watched countless heads shatter under the impact of his bullet, had seen the fountain of blood that burst free when the artery ruptured from the force of the head being torn apart. He'd seen the remains of what Brick did, the mangled bodies with limbs twisted awry and faces flattened into unrecognizable red masses. He had watched bandits be torn apart by skags, had seen the results of a caustic bullet melting away skin and muscle and stripping the body down to the bone. He had seen his own companions injured – dying – and had knelt by their side doing what he could to keep them alive, his hands slick with their blood almost up to his elbows. There were enough horrors on Pandora to inure anyone to the sight.

Yet, he couldn't help but feel faintly queasy as he watched Lilith push a hot needle through Tasha's earlobes. The girl did not flinch, but yet Mordecai could not bear to watch and instead got up to walk away, to put his back to the entire process. Roland had already done the same but Mordecai suspected it was because he wanted to be alone with his thoughts and not out of any sense of unease.

"So it seems the Crimson Lance are going to remain a problem," Mordecai mused as he came up beside the man. Roland just nodded in agreement. "I've been thinking. I'd like to help you."

"Really." For some reason, Roland did not sound surprised. Mordecai frowned.

"Yeah. I've been bumming around New Haven, taking on odd jobs and such, and I just feel... adrift. I need something to put me back on a course, you know?"

"How do you feel about intel work?"

"Dude, I spend most of my time in the field laying on my belly watching someone through a scope. I think I can handle that."

"Alright then. When we get back to New Haven I'll give you the details of your assignment."

Mordecai furrowed his brow, not that Roland could see his irritation. He stepped forwards, pivoting to face the soldier straight-on.

"No," Mordecai said, "That's not how we're doing this. You know how I work. I don't take orders, I don't obey orders, I don't play along as one of your little soldiers. Tell me what you _need_, and then I'll handle it."

Roland could not read Mordecai's expression, not with it covered by the hood as it was. He studied the sniper's posture instead, the thumbs hooked on the belt, the slump of the shoulders and the way the weight was distributed more on one leg than the other. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Roland nodded and then looked back out into the distance, his eyes thoughtful.

"I need to know where they're establishing their new base of operations," he said, "I've got locations for smaller outposts like the one we just blew up, but I need to know if they're relocating, rebuilding, or what."

"Sure. I'll handle it."

He glanced back at the two woman – well, woman and girl, more accurately – and saw that they were done with the ear piercing. Tasha was gingerly touching the small gold studs that sat in her earlobes now. They had been in Lilith's ears, and the siren had happily relinquished them as they had no sentimental value and she had more earrings back in New Haven. Mordecai wondered if that meant she owned some that did have sentimental value. It wasn't a side of her Mordecai had ever considered before.

"I think we're about done here," Mordecai murmured, "Let me go talk to Tasha and then we can get out of here."

Skag-girl's head snapped up as he approached. She seemed tense again, the nervousness he had seen in her when they first met returned in force. Mordecai wasn't certain why that was. She'd given Lilith her pistol back and her assault rifle hung off one shoulder. The tattoo was covered by a strip of cloth again, taken from her forearm, which let the myriad of scars that Bunny had given her bare. They were a lattice of pale white from the wrist to the elbow.

"So," he said.

"I've got your rifle in my runner."

"Once you get in and out of Sanctuary, you'll be able to fix it?"

"Yeah. Come find me in five days. We'll meet right here."

The two regarded each other. Mordecai felt he should say something else, felt that perhaps he shouldn't be leaving someone so vulnerable alone. But she had survived this long and she had a pet skag that would protect her. She wasn't as helpless as she seemed. This was cold comfort for him though, as he tended not to trust any means of defense save a gun in his hands and Bloodwing. Tasha was a terrible shot, however, and Bunny wasn't a very intelligent animal. Then an arm draped around his shoulders and Mordecai saw Lilith at his side.

"Let's go," she said quietly, "Good luck, Tasha. And don't take those earrings out for a long time."

The girl nodded and seemed on the verge of saying something, but her nerve finally broke and she turned and fled to the safety of her runner. Bunny was quick to follow, scrambling up the side and vanishing underneath the tarp into the turret. After a moment his head peeked up over the edge and he regarded them with beady eyes. Skag-girl was starting the engine.

"Your rifle worth all this?" Lilith asked, her arm still around Mordecai's shoulders.

"Until I find a better one, yes. Besides, I'm going to get a barrel of skag-spit whiskey too, remember?"

"Right," Lilith hissed, "I look forwards to your impending hangover."

Brick and Roland were making for their respective runners. Mordecai shrugged Lilith off and clambered up into the turret, seating himself and fastening the harness. Brick eased the runner out, turning it in the direction of New Haven before gunning the engine. There was no talk over ECHO on the ride home.

* * *

Five days came and went. Mordecai spent his time bumming around New Haven, as he'd been doing for some time now, but at least now the monotony was broken by pestering Roland. He did not want to start intel gathering until he had his rifle back and besides, he had some homework to do. If this was going to happen, he intended to do it right, and he needed to know what Roland had already dug up. There was some, but Mordecai found the information discouragingly sparse. This was seemingly not Roland's strong suit – oh, he could do it alright, but Mordecai knew he could do it better. Lilith seemed to always hover in the room while he sat reading over maps and snippets of files and Mordecai suspected she wasn't there for his sake. She almost seemed relieved when he'd leave to return to his own apartment or to the New Haven bar. He always spent a good amount of time there and on the fourth night, he spent more time than usual celebrating the fact he was going to get his rifle back.

And a case of skag-spit whiskey. That couldn't be ignored, either.

The filtered light made Mordecai grateful for his goggles on the morning he left to find skag-girl. His head ached, his mouth felt like it'd been stuffed with cotton, and it had taken an effort of will to pack water in his flask instead of more alcohol. He had downed a shot on his way out though, being a firm believer in 'hair of the dog.' That had done something to alleviate the suffering.

Scooter was waiting for him at the main entrance of New Haven. The mechanic shot out of his chair and hurried over before Mordecai could climb into his runner. Brick had agreed that Mordecai could have it for a few days, as he didn't have any plans to go anywhere that wasn't within walking distance. Mordecai sighed and tried to exert some sort of patience at the sight of Scooter's eager face.

"Didya get my runner back?" Scooter asked.

"No," Mordecai replied, forcing calm into his voice. His head ached with each stab of Scooter's words.

"Why the hell not!?"

"I ain't your fucking errand boy," the sniper replied, enunciating each word carefully, "Besides, that girl keeps _your _catch-a-ride network up and running. You want to be doing all that maintenance yourself, or you rather stay cozy here in New Haven with your nudie mags?"

Scooter licked his lips nervously.

"Uh, well, a'right," he stammered, "Ah guess that's fair an' all."

"Damn right it is."

And Mordecai swung himself into the runner. The rumble of the engine effectively drowned out anything Scooter was going to attempt to say next.

* * *

Mordecai had given himself more than enough time to reach the meeting point. It was what he intended. There was some scouting he needed to do first, down past the demolished Crimson Lance outpost and into the land that sprawled beyond it. Mordecai was glad to see the Crimson Lance had not yet attempted to reestablish in the area, apparently their handiwork had been thorough enough to discourage them. The area beyond was sparsely populated, as Tasha had described, but Mordecai was interested to note that it was even less inhabited than her description had led him to believe. There were some farmsteads, alright, and a handful of miniscule bandit camps, but otherwise the area was deserted and really not worth paying attention. Mordecai didn't think that the area was worth razing a Crimson Lance base over. Then, in the last hour he had allocated himself to search, he found the reason that explained Tasha's insistence that he and his friends help her restore power to the area. It was exactly what he expected to find. He marked the location on his map and then turned the runner around.

He was late, but only by a bit, as there was a ticking from Tasha's runner as the engine cooled and settled. She leaned on the side, Bunny at her feet, and Mordecai's prized rifle in her hands. The sniper killed his own runner and tentatively made his way over, almost afraid to ask if she had been successful. Her expression was unreadable.

"This is going to be the last time I can get in and out of Sanctuary," she said and her voice was hollow, "It's changed. It's not safe."

"This was the last time you'll ever see your dad," he said and she turned her head away.

"We fixed your scope. He helped."

"Did he recognize you?"

"No."

He reached out and took the rifle from her hands. She still did not look at him. Mordecai turned aside, raising the gun to his shoulder and sighting down the scope. He could see the terrain beyond and his hands flickered across the scope, adjusting, and then some rocks fell into view. More adjustments, and he could see the sparse plants growing up among them where they were sheltered from the wind. Mordecai lowered the gun and held it in his hands before him, caressing it with his thumbs. Bloodwing lowered her head and stared at it as well, sensing the importance her master put on the weapon.

"I've been thinking," Tasha said, "About what you offered. About New Haven. And I – shouldn't have – acted the way I did – but-"

"I know," Mordecai interrupted, "But it's the only life you know, and you're scared that if it changes, you'll lose who you are. That if things change too far, you'll change too much, and something that has held you together for so long will unravel and you'll be a stranger to yourself. Is that it?"

"I... yes. How did you know?" Her eyes lifted a fraction to look at him. Mordecai smiled thinly.

"It's about how I felt after we opened the Vault and it was nothing like we had hoped. Things change. You change." He shrugged. "You survive. It's not as bad as it looks. The offer stands. ECHO me if you change your mind."

She nodded curtly. They were done here. The transaction was made and there was nothing to tie either of them here now. Mordecai shouldered his beloved rifle and walked back to his runner. Tasha similarly climbed back into her own and the two started their engines without another word to each other and drove off in separate directions.

Mordecai, however, slung his into a sharp turn as soon as he was out of eye-shot. The runner spun out, the rear tires sliding on the loose sand and once the vehicle was facing the opposite direction Mordecai gunned it again. The vehicle fish-tailed a moment before catching traction and taking off, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. He was careful about his route, staying away from the most direct path, and finally stopping a good distance away where his dust plume wouldn't be visible to any watchers. There was a rise and he walked to the top of this, far out of eye-shot – impossibly far for the human eye or even most scopes or binoculars to see. Of course, Mordecai had a damn good rifle. He settled in, dropping to one knee and raising the gun to his shoulder. He did not intend to shoot anyone. He just wanted to see if his suspicions were correct.

Tasha's runner was parked a good distance outside the bandit camp, well outside of easy gunshot range. It was a large camp, the largest in the area, and consisted of almost four levels of walkways welded together with no discernible pattern. There were buildings, watchtowers, and even a garage at one end that housed two runners. Bandits were moving about the garage, mostly, loading supplies up onto the sides of the runners and getting them ready to move. It was clear that this camp controlled the entire area. There were banners flying from almost every pole and while these were all different colors, they all bore the same insignia: a bird's skull adorned with black feathers.

The girl was standing just in front of her vehicle, waiting with Bunny by her side, as a small group from the camp approached. A man walked point and while he wasn't the biggest, as Mordecai zoomed the scope in he saw that the man certainly looked the toughest. It was in how he walked. He had the confidence of someone that had killed enough people to know how to do so without hesitation. There was a shotgun in one hand. He stopped a yard away from skag-girl and the two seemed to be talking. Then, one of the bandits near the rear moved aside and Mordecai saw that there had been someone just out of line of sight, obscured by the small knot of bodies.

A woman. And as Mordecai watched, she approached Tasha on all fours, her hair a wild mess and her eyes wide and devoid of understanding. Tasha did not move. None of the bandits did. They just watched as this psycho-woman crept over and tentatively stood on two legs, then stepped forwards and wrapped her arms around Tasha. Drew her close, resting the girl's head against her shoulder and slowly stroking her hair with one hand. They remained like this for a long moment and Mordecai almost couldn't breathe. Then she let go, falling to all fours again, and crouched at Tasha's side, opposite Bunny. Tasha's hand dropped to touch the back of her mother's head, just as she would to reassure her skag.

Mordecai let out an unsteady breath and let his gun drop. This was why she couldn't come to New Haven. Her mother was still alive. She'd lost both her parents to madness and yet there was no body to bury, nothing to grieve over and then move on. Something inside Mordecai tightened and he raised his gun, this time with a deliberate slowness as his mind sharpened to a point.

It would only take one bullet. One bullet and she'd be free.

Tasha's hand was still on the back of her mother's skull. Mordecai could see in his mind's eye how it would go – the force of the bullet would spray most of the blood away from her but it would still coat her leg and arm, like red dye blown from a straw. It'd soak into the bandages covering her forearms. The bone shards would cut her hand. One brief, terrible moment of violence, and it'd be done. Pandora was home to a million horrors. One more would be like just another grain of sand in the desert.

He remembered the look on Tasha's face when Brick had held her fast, the way she had been lost to everyone – including herself – and could not be brought back. The look in her eyes when she crouched over the fallen Crimson Lance soldier, her knife through his hand and cold, unreasoning, intent in her eyes.

Tasha herself was only a few steps away from madness.

"I can't," Mordecai whispered, dropping his gun from his shoulder, speaking to himself or to Bloodwing. He wasn't sure which it was. "It's not my choice to make."

He'd seen enough to win the bet with Lilith. He was done here. He stood and walked away, and did not look back.

* * *

There were voices around Mordecai. He could not pinpoint them, as the world was beneath a haze, and he feared to move his head lest it all whirl away and he lose the very ground he was anchored on. The words came to him, though, and he knew the voices. Friends. Good friends. He laughed weakly and raised one hand in an attempt to wave. Wherever the hell they were standing.

"I _knew _he wasn't going to ration," Lilith sighed.

"You get to hold his hair back when he throws up, you bought him the barrel." Roland. The soldier did not sound in the least surprised.

"It was a bet." She paused. "Besides, I knew he wasn't going to ration, but this is a bit worse than usual."

"Ask him what happened when he's sober, then."

"Yeah. In like, what, three days when his blood to alcohol level finally returns to normal? Dammit, do you think he's drunk enough to kill himself? Do we need to take him to Zed?"

Roland laughed and Mordecai felt hands around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. He staggered and fetched up against the man's chest, flinging an arm around Roland's neck to keep his balance.

"I'm fine," he tried to say, "Don't let Zed near me."

"He's fine," Roland reiterated, "If he's coherent enough to protest, he'll live."

"You don't have to help me," Mordecai said to Roland, "I can carry myself. You've carried me enough."

"You're not walking straight – at all - and you weigh next to nothing. It's fine."

"You're so nice to me." His feet caught on something, like the world had shifted suddenly or something. Roland's grip tightened and drew Mordecai close to keep the sniper from falling.

"You two look sweet," Lilith sighed.

"You are _so_ on hair-holding duty," Roland hissed back.

"I'm just going to shove him in the shower and turn the water on and leave him," Lilith sniffed.

"Seriously," Mordecai continued. He had an important point here and he wanted to make sure they knew it. "You guys, like... so I'm always off doing my lone sniper thing, right? And you guys always come back for me and... stuff. I don't know why you do, but you do, and I mean, I know you guys have got my back and I've got yours but, it's like-"

"Yeah, I get it," Lilith sighed, "We love you too, Mordecai. Why can't you just be an angry drunk instead? Just once? For me?"

She moved up beside Mordecai, draping his other arm over her shoulder so he had more support, and together the three of them moved off down the streets of New Haven together, heading towards home. Mordecai continued to babble, as there was an important thing he had to say here, lost in all that alcohol, muddied by a clouded mind that was not given to inspecting these things even when sober. He tried though, and Roland and Lilith endured his attempts at articulation. They were his friends. This was what they did. They took him home, coerced him to drink some water, and let him fall asleep.

In the morning, he'd be hungover, and everything would be back to normal, and whatever had happened would be gone and forgotten.


End file.
